


Never meant to be

by Iwritesinsnotfanfictions



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Body Image, Bullying, Cheating, Domestic Violence, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Harassment, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Teen Pregnancy, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Kissing, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 60,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwritesinsnotfanfictions/pseuds/Iwritesinsnotfanfictions
Summary: Minho has everything the typical teenager could dream of. Good looks, good grades and the ability to fit right in, usually with the more popular students at school. After moving to Australia with his mother, this ability made it rather easy for him. But what wasn't easy, was getting to know the quiet blond kid that sits next to him during music class, who has something about him that made Minho realize: having everything is never what he wanted.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 135
Kudos: 310





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily inspired by a fanfiction I read a few years ago + English is not my first language.  
> The fic will get darker as it progresses. Aside from that, please enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: So, now that this fic is finished I've finally found the time to edit the chapters. Please note that chapter five to thirteen have not been beta read yet.  
> Also, if you wanna spice it up, maybe go and listen to these songs while reading. I've personally found them very fitting:
> 
> Pushing me away - Linkin Park  
> I think I'm okay - Machine Gun Kelly ft. Yungblud  
> Cool Kids - Echosmith (as recommended by Should_love_myself, thank you so much)

Minho leaned his head against the cold window, sighing, and looked down into the garden of the house he was supposed to call 'home' from now on. The grass shone in a bright green, a contrast to the hot, by yellow and earth-tones dominated Australia he saw from the plane. So different from South Korea. If he was being honest with himself, he already missed Gimpo like crazy. Gimpo, his old High School, his friends...why on earth did people get married and had children, just to fall apart years later and take their kids out of the familiar environment they grew up in? Couldn't his parents have waited another year, until he finished High School and went to college? No, they just _had to_ break up in the middle of the school year.

It wasn't like Minho was actually scared because of the new school. He always knew how to present himself so people would like him, adapted quickly and easily made friends. No problem. But it was so _unnecessary_ in this case.  
He breathed onto the glass of the window and drew a cat face into the fog.

Downstairs on the terrace his mother was currently dictating the men from the moving company, who were supposed to put up a garden table and chairs. Saturday. Another one and a half days and he'd had to find his way through the confusion of attending a new school, had to find new friends, become a part of already established groups and cliques.

He wasn't blaming his parents. His father a business lawyer, his mother a divorce lawyer. Little time for their son, basically no time for each other. But perfectly worked out marriage settlements. No surprise that this wouldn't end well. The fighting got worse in the last year, which hadn't been too noticeable, since both had rarely been home. Until one evening five months ago, as Mr. And Mrs. Lee, during a nice dinner, explained to their son that living together under these conditions just hadn't been possible anymore, that it wasn't his fault, and that he of course could visit his father, who stayed in South Korea, whenever he wanted. And so on. Minho had just nodded politely and barely made a face when his mother confessed that she had already found a new chancellery to work in. In Sydney, Australia.

It was okay, Minho didn't want to cause any trouble. If his mother would be happier in Sydney than she was in Gimpo, no problem. He wouldn't start a discussion. He never did.  
So they planned a farewell-party almost his whole grade showed up to, had his friends help him pack his stuff, made promises that they'd definetely stay in contact and flew to Australia. In the middle of October. Minho already missed the cold weather. In Gimpo there'd soon be colorful leaves filling the streets, and it would be cold enough for people to start wearing hats and gloves. But here? Apparently 'cold' in Australia meant to put on something with long sleeves. Christmas with bright sunshine all day. Awesome.

„Honey? Don't you want to play on the new piano? The gentlemen from the moving company are gone and I ordered sushi!“  
With one last look into the garden of the way too big family home, Minho cleaned the window with the hem of his T-Shirt and climbed over multiple moving boxes before exiting the room.

His mother was currently unpacking the silverware and smiled at her son.   
„It's in the dining room. Have you found your sheets already or are you gonna play without them?“  
Actually he didn't want to play at all. He didn't want to eat sushi either.He also didn't want to be in Australia.

„Without. Liszt or Chopin?“  
„Liszt. Chopin is gonna be too exhausting after this stressful day.“  
So Minho sat down at the shiny black grand piano, which took most of the space in the dining room.   
„Those people actually managed to mix up the boxes for the three bathrooms, can you believe that? It's not like I didn't put matching notes on the boxes and doors. Luckily, I noticed it right away.“   
Minho excused his lack of an answer by closing his eyes and letting his fingers slide over the keys.

Minho has been taking piano lessons since he's been three years old. For almost 15 years he's been playing the classics on birthdays, school festivals or new years parties. He liked it. Kind of. It's definetely not something he would have chosen for himself, if he would have had a choice. He also took ballet classes when he was younger, which he enjoyed a lot more, but his parents decided that playing piano was enough of a distraction from school. So he continued playing. Without passion, which is why he never developed an actual talent but he knew how to play difficult scores and he was trying his best. His mother would've been deeply disappointed if he had decided to drop the music and start taking dance lessons again. So he did her the favor and played her favorite piece while waiting for dinner to arrive.

One hour later, Mino filled the shelf next to his desk with his school stuff. He had put it right in front of the window but there weren't any study materials on it yet, instead smaller boxes, tape and his toothbrush. Shaking his head, he went to put it into the adjoining bathroom. The mirror above the sink showed a disgruntled face. He combed through his hair with his fingers. His mother had allowed him to dye them a dark brown shade a few months ago, but without the light shining onto his head, his hair still seemed black. He sighed. Maybe he'd take a walk through the neighborhood tomorrow, take a look at the area. Or maybe he'd just spend all day in his room, look for old pictures he brought with him and ignore the hot October weather by turning up the AC, putting on a cozy sweater and pretending he was still in Korea. Pretend he'd still be surrounded by a functioning family and his friends.

„I already looked for a piano tutor, by the way. You're going to be part of the school orchestra again, aren't you?“  
It was Monday morning, and Minho had actually managed to not leave the house during his first weekend in Sydney. Now it was 8am, the school bus would leave in half an hour and Minho sat in front of his breakfast and his mothers leather briefcase. Ms. Lee put on her lipstick for the tenth time this morning and briefly glanced at her son through the mirror.  
„Sure. If they have one.“  
„Honey, every school has an orchestra. Maybe you could join the debate club, you enjoyed that last year, didn't you? They sure have more options here in Australia than in Korea. Watch where you put your spoon these documents are important!“  
Minho watched his mother free her work costume from non-existing crumbs and then with a quick look at her watch, grab her briefcase. Lovingly she squeezed her sons shoulder before putting on her sunglasses.  
„I don't know when I'll be back, maybe you could go grocery shopping later. And don't worry, you always made friends easily. See you later, honey!“

The front door closed and Minho was left alone. He would have loved to just go back to his room, sleep through his first day of school and all the following days, too. Never have to deal with another human being again.  
But then he got up, cleaned his leftovers, slipped into his shoes and took one last look in the mirror. His new school uniform consisted of a simple white button-up shirt with short sleeves and dark green plaid pants. It was surprising, finding out that schools in Australia required a uniform, just like they did in Korea. He actually had thought he could wear whatever he wanted.

He let his eyes skim the neighborhood as he walked towards the bus station for the first time. Big, fancy family homes with picket-fences or hedges surrounding them. Everything pretty much looked the same under the wide blue sky. It was already way too hot for this time of the day. He looked after a car passing by.  
Minhos mother actually made sure he'd be fine on his own from time to time, so about three months ago she managed to get him an international drivers license. Legally of course, with driving lessons and everything but not without her pulling a few strings behind the scenes. In Sydney you were apparently allowed to drive by yourself at the age of 17, which was completely unreasonable to Minho. He didn't have a car anyways.  
But he couldn't help but think about what would happen if he sat in his mothers BMW. Turn the engine on and start driving, until he left Sydney, out of the suburbs past the last few buildings of the city and then…desert. Just go straight ahead along the highway. Hour for hour. Where would he end up?

He was the only one waiting at the bus station but not for long. Inside the bus Minho noticed how the seats seemed to be mostly occupied by students. Curious eyes lingered on him. He sat down in an empty row and let out a breath while subtly looking around.  
„Are you new here? I've never seen you before.“  
Minho turned his head back to the front. In the seat in front of him sat a pretty girl with asian features and a bright smile who had turned around and looked at him curiously. She seemed to be his age and Minho hesitantly smiled back.  
"Uh...here?"  
"You go to Newtown High, right? We're wearing the same uniform."  
„Oh, yes, it's my first day.“  
„I knew it! Where are you from?“  
„South Korea. I'm Minho." Minho answered.  
„South Korea? Wow, your English is really good!", she continued to smile.  
„Thanks.“  
„I'm Caroline. What grade are you in?“  
„11. What about you?“  
„Same! Have you gotten your schedule yet?“  
Minho shook his head.  
„I think I'll get that later.“  
„Maybe we'll have some classes together. You definetely have to take music instead of art. The art teacher is a real weirdo.“  
Minho only nodded, a bit taken aback by her enthusiasm. Were all Australians this friendly?  
He decided to just hang onto Caroline for now. It was always easier having someone who knew their way around.

Only 15 minutes later the bus came to a halt on the big Newtown High School campus and Minho followed the crowd of arriving students into the main building. Caroline, who stepped through the wide open glass doors with him, showed him the direction to the secretary office. Minhos feeling for other people seemed to have been spot on once again. Caroline greeted people left and right, seemed to know almost everybody and if Minho was lucky, he wouldn't have to sit by himself during lunch on his very first day.  
„Good morning Mrs. Wilson! Minho is new and we're here to pick up his schedule." With a bright smile Caroline leaned on the desk and looked at the secretary. She looked up from her documents.  
„Name?“  
„Lee Min- Minho Lee.“  
„Ah yes, here you are. Here's your schedule, maybe Caroline can look after you on your first day. We had to put you into music for the rest of the term, you'll have to take art in the next one. We also have a lot of clubs to attend after school, here's a brochure. Other than that - Welcome to Newtown High!“  
While Minho tried to take hold of all the papers, Caroline already snatched his schedule from him.  
„We have algebra and literature together…oh, and PE, too. But you're in the other music class. That's okay, Jenna and Toby are in yours, I can introduce you later. Thanks, Mrs. Wilson!“

„Alright then, see you in third period.“ Again, Caroline gave Minho a bright smile before she disapeared between the other students in the hallways.  
Minho looked after her, a bit suspicious. He usually had a hard time trusting people, especially when they're as friendly as Caroline. He simply didn't understand how someone could be this nice. He turned around and looked at his surrounding. The halls started to become emptier and Minho could see paintings of the art class on the wall and signs, leading to the toilets, the library and the canteen.

Alright. Let's do it then.


	2. Chapter 2

It played out like it usually did. With a nice smile, Minho greeted his teachers and fellow students and was accepted just as nicely. Exactly that's why Minho wasn't too worried about his first day at school. Of course there'd be people who he wouldn't like and who wouldn't like him. But there'd also be people who he would call his friends, who he'd spent his free periods with and who he would hang out with after school. No problem at all. He'd create the perfect bridge from his old life in Korea to his new life in Australia. The same day, the same activities just with different faces.

They were currently talking about genes in biology, afterwards he learned about Australian history and in third period, where he met Caroline again, he had already made a big step when it came to acquaintances. During lunch, he stood in the queue together with Carolines friends Toby, Jenna, Ashton and Matt and felt like he'd been here a month, not just a few hours.

„Have you thought about what clubs you're gonna sign up for after school? If you like, you could come to our dance class, we have practice every Wednesday!“ Jenna put her blonde hair behind her ear and then opened her ice tea bottle.  
The canteen was rather full, but thanks to the usually good weather, you could also sit outside.  
„I actually wanted to join the orchestra. I'm good at playing piano. I don't know if my mom would like it if I joined a dance class.“  
„Orchestra is this afternoon. If you join the wannabe dancing queens, you can come to our swim club on Thursdays!“  
„You're such an Idiot, Ashton! Since when do you have a problem with the dance club?“  
„What do you mean since when?“  
„Eleanor is also in our club. Does your girlfriend have to listen to this bullshit, too?“  
While Jenna and Ashton were going off at eachother, Minho looked for a free table to sit at.

„We usually sit outside. Come on, they're gonna fight for a while now.“  
Caroline nodded into the direction of the outside tables and they stepped into the hot 12pm weather. It would definetely take a while to get used to these temperatures. They all sat down at one of the tables and Minho realized that they had a wonderful view at the football field. At the table next to them sat a group of guys who all brought their notebooks and seemed to have forgotten about their lunch.

„IT club. They're working on their first video game. Something with dragons or whatever. There's also the book club every Tuesday. It's super relaxed. One classic a month and at the end you write an essay about it. I wanted to join them too, but then Cheerleading practice got put on Tuesdays as well.“  
„Cheerleading?“ Minho asked.  
„I'm the captain. Without us, the football team would go down in flames.“ Caroline winked at him and then looked for Jenna and Ashton, who seemed to have calmed down and sat next to them.  
While a conversation about some party, Minho obviously didn't attend, started, he decided to take a look around.

At a table not far from theirs sat a blond guy who's hair had been so obviously dyed, it simply had to stand out.  
With the dark undercut, it was a pretty extreme contrast to the hairstyles the other boys at school wore. Instead of the white button-up, he was wearing a dark oversized shirt and as he raised his hand to brush through his hair, Minho first thought he made a mistake. The black and red lines on his forearms surely were the pattern of his sleeves, right? But before he could take a better look, the boy had already put his hands back into his lap under the table. And was that thing in his eyebrow _a piercing_? 

„Who is that?“, he asked, fascinated.   
At his old school you would've gotten send home simply for not wearing the uniform. But dyed hair AND a piercing? He never saw someone like this in a school. Of course he knew those kinds of people who would start to wear a lot of earrings or put chains and whatnot on their pants back home in Korea, just to prove that they were different and didn't care about what others think. Which in that way, didn't make sense because if they really didn't care they wouldn't try to shove their individuality into everybodys faces like that. Which meant they actually did care about what other people thought.  
But this guy, who sat so alone under one of the few trees that granted shade, really didn't seem to care about what his fellow students thought.  
No awkward looking-over-the-shoulder because others kept staring at him, no hiding so he wouldn't stand out but also no making a scene about how different he was.  
He just sat there. Alone. And apparently happy with it.

Caroline looked up from her plate and followed Minhos eyes. Then she shrugged.  
„Oh this guy. What was his name again, Toby?"  
„Christopher Bang. Isn't that the weirdest name?"  
„Didn't you go the same school as him during primary?" Matt asked and Toby gave him a weird look.  
Bang? That was a Korean surname. So this guy was Korean? Minho couldn't make it out from where he was sitting.  
„How am I supposed to remember him, the guy never talks. He's a weirdo anyway.", Toby explained.  
„Why?", Minho asked.  
„He'd always been. A total loner. People are saying he sells drugs."  
„And he takes them, too. Look at this guy. My parents would've kicked me out if I had put this metal shit into my face."  
Jenna made disgusted face.  
„And he's a faggot." Minho froze.  
„Ashton!"  
„What? He is. Look at him."  
Jenna rolled her eyes.  
„I heard he has a girlfriend. Mike was at Maccas a few days ago, where the freak works, and said a girl picked him up."  
„Then he's a faggot with a girlfriend. Can I have some of your Ketchup?"  
Ashton pointed at Matts plate. He sighed and nodded.  
„Ketchup with lasagna, that's so nasty, honestly." With that, the conversation turned to Ashtons eating habits.

Minho looked back at Christopher who still sat at the table without moving an inch. So he was openly gay? Or why would Ashton say that? Did he call him that word, simply because of the piercings and dyed hair? He brushed his fingers through his own hair before doing it like Christopher, and put his hands in his lap.

It's not like he ever actively bullied someone. He also had never yelled at someone or called them names. It wasn't like him, making fun of others. But he also had never seen the use in stopping others from doing it. It wouldn't make a difference anyway. And on his first day he definetely wouldn't mess up his connections right after making them. For some boy he didn't even know. So he preferred to continue staring at his legs.  
Also, the guy didn't seem to be unhappy with his situation. And when he even had a job and a girlfriend - Minho didn't have to worry.

The rest of the day went by quickly. Literature and PE followed and after showering, Minho had just enough time to find the music room. He managed to slip through before his teacher could close the door. Ms. Thompson, a short, elderly lady who watched him curiously.  
In none of his classes he had spotted Christopher Bang. It was kind of reassuring, not having to put up with him. Of course there were students at his old school who weren't as popular as others and Minho had always felt sorry for them. It must've been exhausting, always being the one people decided to pick on. But on the other side…you make your own luck, right? But even though Christopher seemed to have no problem at all with being the last place on the popularity-list, this couldn't be a life anyone liked living.  
But what did he care? He probably had friends outside of school.

„Meenho, right?"  
„It's Minho Ma'am." he corrected.  
She gave him an acknowledging look over the frames of her glasses.  
„I skimmed through your school record. It says you're rather good at playing the piano. For practice we sadly only have a keyboard for you to use, but it should be fine, right? Just try it. Then everybody, ready…and one and two…"

Sometimes Minho wondered if there was something wrong with him. While distractedly playing on the keyboard, he started to think about his last few days in Sydney. Maybe he should try harder. Try harder to fit in, instead of always pretending. He should be more open. To everything. The people, the weather, his mother…there couldn't be a better time for a new beginning, right?  
He liked thinking that he had a lot of friends. And even more acquaintances. People who were close to him and who he could trust...to a certain degree. It wasn't like Minho, fully devoting himself to something. Or someone. He had learned rather early, that being himself would just drive others away.  
It was easier to just smile and nod. Get praised for being neutral. He'd always been a nice kid, never fought over toys or screamed because of frustration.  
And later too, he'd been a rather easy going teenager. Easy to handle, without problems. He didn't drink, he didn't smoke. He got good grades and never had a boyfriend of girlfriend, his parents could have worried over. He liked pleasing everyone. It was the easiest for him and everyone around him. Just sometimes, Minho had wished, he could be more than just nice to someone. But maybe he was just ungrateful. There were enough people who had it worse than him.  
He noticed the other instruments having stopped. _Finally_. He absolutely hated slaughtering classical pieces on those cheap keyboards. Fellow students all ages grabbed their instruments and left the room, laughing and talking while looking forward to their free afternoon. Ms. Thompson stayed behind her desk, said goodbye to the last students leaving and then asked Minho to stay for a minute.

„You seem to have been a little distracted, haven't you?"  
Minho felt himself blush. So he had been caught.  
„I'm sorry, I'm really not used to playing on a keyboard." he used as an excuse.  
Ms. Thompson nodded slowly, not entirely convinced.  
„I'm gonna be honest with you. We didn't have a pianist until now, so the parts have been focusing more on other instruments." Miss Thompson connected her fingertips infront of her face and looked at Minho, again over the frames of her glasses.  
„Which of course doesn't mean we're not welcoming you here. I would like to give you a solo part at the Christmas party. If you're interested. Are you?"  
„Of course. I already played at my other school-"  
„Is that the only reason? Because you played at your other school?"  
„I've been playing for about 15 years. Of course I like it.", he lied.  
Miss Thompson continued to look at him. Not warily, more curious.  
„Well, then I'll be giving you the right scores next time. And now hurry, so you'll catch your bus."

Quickly Minho grabbed his bag and left the chilly school building. The afternoon heat hit him like a wall and the asphalt seemed to blur in the distance. He made it just into the bus when the doors closed behind him. This time he knew no one on the vehicle by name. Caroline went home immediately after the last period since she had Cheerleading practice three times a week - Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. So this time, Minho just looked at the passing houses and wondered when the feeling of being home would come. 

As he let himself fall into his bed and pressed his face into the pillow, he made a grumpy noise. He'd still have to unpack some more boxes and his friends should've already called him. Or did he promise to call them after arriving? He couldn't remember.  
He turned to lie on bis back and stared at the wooden ceiling. It was white like the rest of his room, except for the wall behind his bed, which was light blue. A lot of things had been blue in his life. Blue was the stereotypical boy color. If he'd been a girl he probably would have lived a dream in pink. This much cliché was almost scary.

Caroline was also a cliché. Good looking model-type, smart, popular with everyone, Cheerleader. Was he himself a cliché too? Probably. It was time for him to connect to people more and go out. Being alone with his thoughts was scary. Scary and annoying.  
He decided to get something to drink from the fridge. As he walked past the little table in the hallway he saw the answering machine atop of it blink. He pressed a button and listened to the message that had been left.

„Minho, Honey, I'll be getting dinner with my new colleagues tonight, so I'll be home late. I hope you enjoyed your first day at school. Maybe you could clean the leftover dishes and go grocery shopping, yes? Love you!'  
Of course he'd clean the dishes. And of course he'd go get groceries. The fridge was way too empty. But first he'd finish unpacking, hoping the temperatures in Sydney would drop as soon as the sun went down.

At about 6:30pm Minho brushed through his hair tiredly and brought the empty moving boxes down into the basement. Now shopping. And without a car. His 17th birthday was still a week away anyway. He wondered if his mother had a bus plan somewhere. Probably not. His mother neither took the bus nor the train. That's what they had the BMW for. And Minho? He could carry the groceries home on his own. Without a car. If he'd find a grocery store. And if he didn't, he'd just stay outside. Enjoy the cool night air and wander through the streets, petting stray cats until he wouldn't find his way back home. Sounded like a plan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, first of all thanks for the Kudos, I really appreciate it.  
> Then also, I tried to throw some Aussie slang in there and have no idea if it's cringy or not, so please let me know :`)

He found the store, just as he found the right bus station and his way home.

Just a few houses down was a station where a bus could take him downtown every hour.  
After asking, the bus driver had showed him the nearest mall where Minho left the vehicle. He thought about what he could buy, that he could also carry. Which definetely limited his choices. So he decided against the big pack of rice and the toilet paper and went for the small rice pack, milk, noodles, toast and some fat-free yoghurt for his mother. That should be enough.  
With the almost overflowing brown paper bag in his arm, Minho walked across the now pretty empty parking lot. He hoped he didn't have to wait for too long for the bus now. As soon as the sun went down it became pretty chilly outside and Minho cringed at the fact that he didn't bring a jacket with him. But how was he supposed to know that, after it was that hot during the day. And now he was only wearing some jeans, sneakers and a white T-Shirt.

"Oi, Cutie!"  
Minho was trying to get the toast to not fall out of the bag, before turning around, warily. A few feet away from his stood an aged looking car, parked across two parking spaces. Now Minho also noticed the music that apparently came from the cars radio. That definetely wasn't Chopin. A girl and a guy sat on the radiator hood, in the front seats were two other guys with their legs hanging out to the sides and a second girl seemed to be applying nail polish on the backseat of the cabriolet.  
Minho decided to ignore them. He really wasn't in the mood for human interaction. But the toast said otherwise, as it dropped out of the bag, while he tried to step over an empty beer can on the ground. Annoyed, Minho put the bag down and tried to put the toast back in a way it wouldn't fall out again. Just as he put the milk to the side, carefully, so the paper bag wouldn't rip, a pair of biker boots appeared in his field of vision.

He looked up, past a pair of ripped jeans and a band T-shirt until he met the eyes of one of the guys from the car. He was Asian, had a cigarette between his lips, a beer can in his hand and looked down at Minho, grinning. He was also wearing a cap on his dark hair. Slowly Minho got back up and looked over the guys shoulder at the other people in the back, who stared at them curiously.

"Need some help?"  
"No, thank you. I'm fine."  
The guy turned around to look at his friends, laughing. He sure was about a foot taller than Minho.  
"'No, thank you' he said! How polite!"  
Minho looked around nervously, then picked up his paper bag and attempted to walk around the stranger.  
"You're leaving already? You can hang out with us, if you want. Or did Daddy tell you not to hang out with the big boys?"  
"Come on, leave him alone!", the girl in the backseat yelled. She was blowing onto her nails and seemed to have rolled her eyes even though Minho couldn't really see it from the distance. But the guy ignored her and kept looking at Minho.  
"So?"  
"Uh…thanks, but I really have to go. My…my parents are waiting."  
A mocking smirk.  
"Sure. But if you change your mind-I'm Ian!"

Minho felt a cold shiver run down his spine when Ian winked at him, before walking back to the car.  
Taking a deep breath, Minho continued his walk back to the bus station, followed by the eyes of the people from the car. And as he turned around one last time, he saw Christopher Bang sitting on the radiator hood, a beanie on his head and a cigarette in his hand, staring after him.

He didn't sleep well. He had a weird dream about Keyboards and biker boots which was the cause of his bad mood. He remembered last nights incident. What kind of weird guy was this Christopher, that he spend his time with someone like that Ian? He definitely wasn't a student at Newtown High. Neither were any of the others, as far as Minho could see. He wondered if the girl on the radiator hood was Christophers girlfriend. Whatever. He never talked to him and after last night he definetely didn't want to. This Christopher really was freak if _that_ were the kind people he surrounded himself with. Never - _never_ \- had a scabby guy like this Ian talked to him. Back in Gimpo, something like that wouldn't have happened. More than ever he wanted to go back to Korea.

"Honey, did you get yoghurt? Perfect. I'm a little late and I also don't know when I'll get back. A client contacted me, it'll probably take longer today, so don't wait up. Have fun at school!"  
A brief kiss to the top of his head, then the sound of high heels on the floor, the front door, silence. If he wouldn't have gotten home last night, it would have taken his mother hours to notice. _If_ she would have noticed.  
This time Caroline wasn't on the bus. She explained that her car was currently getting fixed and she went to pick it up after school yesterday. So Minho read a bit in biology book, before finding the science rooms on his own without problems. Of course Caroline and her clique greeted him at lunch and while they sat at their regular table, Jenna started talking about her upcoming birthday party.  
"You definetely have to come. It's a pool party so you'll have to bring your bathers - I mean swimwear! The water is still warm at night. It's Saturday night next week!"  
"On the 25th?", Minho asked and Jenna nodded.  
"That's my birthday, too."  
"Really? Then we'll celebrate together! But of course you'll have to bring your own cake!", she winked.  
"Jennas parties are legendary. Do you remember last Halloween, when Leo was absolutely pissed and puked into your moms-"  
"Yes, Ashton, I remember. Thanks for reminding me, god, that was so disgusting."  
"The Halloween Party is gonna be at my place this year, so mark the day in your planners.", Caroline said while mixing her salat.  
"As longs as it's gonna be better than the school party." Toby sighed, making a reference to Newtown Highs Halloween-School-Party on the 29th.  
"With costumes?", Minho asked. He never went to a big Halloween Party in Gimpo.  
"Of course with costumes. And no, going as Cheerleader doesn't count."  
"Oh boo…", Caroline murmured and kept stabbing her salat with her fork.  
"What are you gonna go as?", Matt asked Minho.  
"What?", he had kept looking at the table under the tree, but today, it was unoccupied.  
"What are you gonna dress up as? Got an idea?"  
"I don't know. I didn't bring any costumes with me so I'll have to get a new one. I have music instead of PE today, right?"  
Caroline nodded.  
"But without me. Jenna and Toby are gonna take you." Both of them nodded but not without Toby giving first Caroline, then him a weird look. But Minho kept staring at the empty table. This Christopher was probably skipping class to hang out with his weird friends.

Turned out he was wrong. As he went to his locker before music class to put away his algebra books, he discovered the blond guy between other students, walking down the hall with headphones on his ears and apparently not interested in whatever was going on in the world around him. So he really was Korean.  
His unbothered attitude didn't even change as suddenly two guys from 12th grade, who were in the same swim team as Toby, roughly bumped into him from both sides.

Christophers bag dropped to the floor, most students simply walking over it. No one seemed to even think about helping him. So it was Christopher himself who, rubbing his right shoulder, picked it up and kept walking as if nothing happened.  
The whole ordeal only lasted a second, but partially hidden behind his locker door, Minho saw everything. Too far away to do something. Not that he had planned to. He never got involved in something like this. And had Christoper done something about how Ian harassed him last night? No.

He arrived at the music room a little later because he missed Jenna and Toby and had to find the right room by himself, but his teacher didn't seem to care much. The room was decorated with festival flyers and self made posters about bands Minho didn't know, and was filled with about 20 students.  
"You're joinig us in the middle of our little group projects.", Mr. Barnes, the music teacher said. "Everyone is working with the person next to them for three weeks, with the assignment of writing your own little jingle. Scores only, there's no need to write lyrics. Luckily we've only been 19 people till now. So I'd like to ask you to sit with Christopher at the back and work with him."

Minhos head shot up at the mention of Christophers name and almost immediately, he recognized the familiar white-blonde curly hair in the last row at the window. Jenna, who was sitting in the first row gave him an apologizing look, as Minho made his way trough the rows.  
Christopher, who was sitting infront of an almost completely filled music sheet, briefly glanced over to him as Minho sat down. If he recognized him, he didn't show it.  
And Minho didn't know how to handle this kind of treatment.  
So his forearms really were tattooed. A Korean dragon and some flowers found their way over the skin on both his arms. Some of the lines were colored in a bright red. And he wasn't just wearing a piercing in his eyebrow but also in the middle of his bottom lip and in both ears.

"I'm almost done. Just have to figure out the last part. So there's nothing for you to do, really." His accent (which was a little more noticeable than the ones of the other people he spoke to) almost distracted Minho from how indifferent, almost annoyed his voice sounded. And Minho had no idea how to answer him. He didn't even ask for his name. Of course he could've went and asked Mr. Barnes for another partner, but it didn't seem to be of any use.  
"Uhm…okay. Can I at least look at it?"  
Christopher shrugged and looked out the window.  
Hesitantly, Minho pulled the sheet over to his side of the table. Christopher had folded his hands over his stomach, and with his legs stretched out he looked like he was only visiting. But as Minho tore his eyes off of him and concentrated on the music notes instead, he was honestly surprised. He played the melody in his head, a nice tune, not super annoying like the ones from the cereal commercials, but catchy and well arranged. No matter what kinda guy Christopher was. He definetely knew his way around music.

"It's good. It sounds good."  
No answer. Minho passed him the sheet and then watched Christopher grab a pen and go over the lines again and again. Minho looked around and felt out of place. The teacher was sitting at his desk, reading a newspaper, while other students were slowly figuring out their scores and sharing the only two keyboards in the room.  
"Isn't there anything I can do? I mean, the grade's gonna count for both of us and then you'd have done all the work by yourself."  
"It's fine."  
Christopher hesitated for a moment, seemingly overthinking what he just wrote down on the sheet.  
"So I'm just supposed to sit here for the next two weeks and do nothing?"  
Again, Christopher shrugged uninterested.  
"Excuse me, did I do something to you?"  
"Why?"  
"Because you're ignoring me."  
"I'm finishing our assignment."  
And with that they sat in silence for the next 15 minutes. Minho was quiet because he didn't no how to answer, Christopher was silent because he apparently liked it that way.

"You were at the parking lot yesterday, right?" Minho decided to attack from the front. He felt absolutely stupid, sitting here next to this tattooed guy in complete silence. People usually talked to him, were interested in him in any way. But not Christopher.  
"Yes."  
"And this Ian is a friend of yours?"  
"Obviously."  
"Okay…"  
No explanation, no apology, nothing.

Minho looked over at Jenna and Toby who were debating over something. He then put his hands in his lap and watched his seat partner work on the assignment.  
The next time he looked up, he saw how Toby was looking over at them, nodded at Christopher and then tapped against his forehead with his finger. Minho half-smiled at him.  
Not, because he agreed.  
Christopher was different, rude to be exact, but Minho was somehow fascinated by him and his indifference. In a really weird way. Because actually, he could care less about this guy.  
But still…he just seemed to do whatever he wanted. And currently, that wasn't having a conversation with Minho, so he didn't. Still, Minho would never treat someone like this. Simply because he knew he wouldn't get away with it.  
Thinking about it, he wasn't actually rude. He was just not interested.

Right before the period ended, Christopher stood up and handed the almost finished assignment in, grabbed his bag and left the room without sparing Minho, who was still sitting at his desk, a single glance. It all happened in the blink of an eye.  
"There's something wrong with the guy. Completely deranged. Did he even speak to you?", Jenna asked, who watched Christopher leave and made her way over to Minho.  
"He'll finish our assignment by himself. That's what he said."  
"Like I said. He probably popped a pill or something. Well, see you tomorrow, I gotta go."  
And with that, Jenna disappeared, pulling Toby with her and Minho was left behind, while really trying to understand Christopher, but to no avail.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you work well with Christopher?“  
Mr. Barnes had asked Minho before he could leave the room.  
"He is…very talented."  
Mr. Barnes nodded.  
"He really is. I tried to get him to join the orchestra, but he refused. Well, at least he takes care of the audio for the school radio." Minho nodded, trying to not make a face.  
That was nice for Christopher. Or Mr. Barnes. But how was that any of his business?  
"He will be done with he assignment next time. After that he'll be working on the sound equipment in the auditorium for the upcoming Halloween party and after that, for the Christmas party, so your group project will end then. Would you like to help him or do you think you could start your own project?" Mr. Barnes blinked at him while Minho opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. There were a lot of things speaking against working with Christopher. The guy himself probably wouldn't like having to spend his free periods with Minho. He obviously didn't like him. Minho himself wouldn't say that he did not _like_ Christopher, but especially nice and considering was definetely not something you could describe him as. So why would he spent more time with him than necessary?  
Because he was curious.  
Because he couldn't imagine what was going on in the mind of this tattooed boy, who spent most of his time at a place where he was only suffering but did not seem to have a problem with it. And because he was fascinated by Christopher Bang, this pierced, absolutely different boy with the wide shirts and a passion for music who showed no interest in Minho. Yeah, that was probably the main reason. Even though he couldn't explain where this fascination came from. Maybe he would figure it out.  
"I think I'd like to work with him. Starting a new project for the next few weeks doesn't seem very productive."  
"Alright. Well then, see you next time."  
And with that Minho left the room heading to the book club. He kept chewing on his lips while wandering the empty halls, wondering how next week would play out for him.

At the door to the book club waited the next surprise of the day.  
 _'During the nice weather the book club will meet at the fountain on the campus =)'_ , said the yellow post-it note which was pinned to the door.  
Surprised, Minho looked into the room which, indeed, was empty. This really seemed to be a relaxed club, just like Caroline said. He of course chose this club because of the little work he would have to put into it. Minho wasn't lazy, but why should he do more work than he had to?  
The orchestra was more like an additional piano lesson, dancing would be sport, which was the excuse he'd use for his mother, but the rest…? So he chose the book club. He liked reading, and one essay a month was absolutely no big deal. So he made his way outside.

He arrived to a group of about 15 people sitting at the fountain.  
"Mrs. James?"  
The teacher turned around and Minho looked into a pair gigantic eyes, thanks to the thick glasses the woman was wearing. She wore a long, flowing skirt made of multiple patches and a tie-dye shirt which looked absolutely horrible paired with the skirt.  
"Yes, dear?"  
"I…my name is Minho Lee. I'm new and I would like to join the club."  
"Oh, how wonderful! Fantastic. Everyone, we have a new member! How about we all introduce ourselves, yes?"  
Minho was…confused to say the least. In Gimpo teachers had to follow a dress code, but here, everyone just seemed to dress however they wanted, despite the students having to wear uniforms. While Minho was trying to figure out what to think about that, the students who had been sitting in the sun, either alone or in small groups, were slowly getting closer.

"Minho, my name is Sandra James, we all call each other by our first names. Right now we're reading 'Pride and Prejudice' and in November we'll be starting 'The Lord of the Flies'. At the end of the month, everyone will be handing in an essay, about five pages. You can write about your thoughts, you can criticize the book, you can even write an alternative ending, that's all up to you!"  
That was relaxed. That was _really_ relaxed. This was the best club Minho could ever imagine.   
The other students began to introduce themselves and Minho forgot the majority of the names as soon as they've been said until-  
"My name is Christopher."  
Minho, who's been subtly glancing at Mrs. James questionable fashion choice, looked up to the source of the voice and for the third time today, he found himself face to face with Christopher Bang.  
He had one hand in his pocket and was holding the book with the other, while leaning at the edge of the fountain and watching the small waves in the water. No sign of recognition. While most have either smiled or at least curiously looked at him, Christopher didn't seem to think that Minho was worth looking at. He scoffed. '  
It was really unbelievable.

Right after Ms. James gave Minho her own, aged version of the book and suggested he'd sit somewhere in the sun and enjoy 'Austins wonderful world of emancipation'. After taking a look around, he realized that most students were enjoying the book so much, they had their eyes closed and were bathing in the hot sun. One girl was reading in a fashion magazine, a boy seemed to be working on his algebra homework. Christopher was sitting on a bench under a tree and while he had the book lying on his knees he had a paper notebook in his hands and seemed to be writing something.

Minho wanted to sit in the shade as well, but not next to Christopher. He found another bench, right on the other side of the tree Christopher was sitting under. Just as he was about make his way over there, he discovered a piece of paper at the spot Christopher was standing at during the introduction. Quickly, he bend down and picked the piece up, which seemed to be have been ripped from a paper sheet.

_'Time flows like water_   
_In the blink of an eye, I'm dead_   
_I don't want that, I don't want to die with regrets_   
_I hate you who control my pockets_   
_I don't want to erase my dreams for money_   
_God gave us an option, whatever road we take_   
_I knew since I was born, don't push the brakes_   
_Look forward and live for yourself'_

The handwriting was pretty and Minhos assumption the paper would belong to Christopher disappeared after he read the words. Who would come up with such beautiful poems, just to write them on a ripped piece of paper and then lose it?  
"Could I get that back?"  
Surprised, Minho looked up as he heard Christophers bored voice. He hadn‘t noticed that he had gotten up and now stood in front of him. Again, he didn't sound annoyed or mad.  
"This is _yours_?"  
Minho knew he probably sounded rude right now, but he really could care less. The whole give-a-smile-get-a-smile thing he always had going on with people didn't seem to work on Christopher anyway. But to think that this blond outcast wrote something like this.  
"I use it as a bookmark."  
Christophers eyes shortly stayed on Minhos face, then went to look at their teacher. Minho still wasn't moving to give the paper back.  
"So you wrote this?"  
"Yes."  
Christopher was about the same height as himself, maybe a little shorter, but not much. The black sleeveless shirt he was wearing showed his tattoos and a pretty nasty looking bruise on his shoulder. He also noticed how worn out his black converse looked. Minho looked down on himself. The white uniform shirt all buttoned up, not a single stain on his expensive white sneakers. If it weren't for the pants, these two wouldn't even look like they went to the same school.  
"So?"  
Of course, the note! Minho folded it neatly.  
"You shouldn't lose something like this. It's nice. It sounds nice."

And that was the first time that Christopher actually looked at him, with a partly surprised, partly wary look in his eyes. Minho realized how Christopher had begun to play with the ring in his lip franticly - nervous maybe? He took the paper and just turned around, walking back towards the bench under the tree without sparing another glance at Minho. He could've at least thanked him. What in heavens name was his deal?

One hour later, the school day was finally over. No one stopped him this time on his way to the bus station. He waved to some people he knew from class and then he saw Christopher, who walked determined, but not especially fast over the schools parking lot and then got into an already waiting car. He leaned over and gave the girl behind the wheel a short kiss on the lips. It was the same girl from the mall parking lot. And if Minho wasn't mistaken, then Christopher was even smiling. The first time he saw him smile. He noticed his dimples.  
Minho stopped looking when the cabriolet finally pulled out of the parking space and left the campus.  
So Christopher did not only actually have friends, but even a relationship. Which made Minho think that there had to be another side to him - a side where he wasn't so incredibly quiet and rude. Minho wondered what happened to Christopher that he acted like this in school, when he obviously wasn't always like this.

"Oi, Minho!"  
Surprised, Minho turned around and realized only now, that he was almost the only one left on the parking lot. He hadn't moved an inch since seeing Christopher with his girlfriend. And now a shiny black car was parked next to him, with a familiar girl looking out of the window.  
"Hey, Caroline. Done with Cheerleading?"  
"Just got out of the shower. What are you doing here all alone?"  
"Uhm…well, actually I wanted go catch the bus - I'm in the book club now - but I guess I missed it."  
"Oh really? Get in, I'll get you home!"  
"Oh no, that's okay. That's probably a detour for you."  
"No drama. I can't just leave you here. The next bus takes off in an hour."  
Minho looked around the now empty parking lot, before getting in the car.  
"So, where are we goin'?", Caroline asked with a smile and Minho told her his address.  
While driving, Caroline kept going off about Cheerleading, Jennas Parties, some literature test while she kept driving over the speed limit and Minho tried to not too obviously press himself into the seat. He subtly let out a breath when they finally stopped at a red light and looked out of the window. Right next to them was the young womans cabriolet that picked up Christopher.

"Look, that's Christophers girlfriend.", Minho finally interrupted Carolines five-minute-monologue.  
"Christopher Bang? So he really has a girlfriend. Well, she ain't a beaut."  
"Maybe she's nice. She looks nice."  
Caroline let out a small laugh.  
"If you think so."  
"Christopher's in my book club. And my music class."  
"Wow, it's like he's following you."  
"We're working together in music class. Did you know he's the one who takes care of the sound equipment for the Halloween party?"  
"Nope. But I knew he's in the creative writing club. How's working with him? Never talked to him, he really is pretty weird, don't you think?"  
"I don't know…he's really quiet. He doesn't talk to me."  
"He doesn't talk to anyone, so don't worry."  
Minho was quiet for a moment.  
"Where did you get the idea that he takes drugs?"  
Caroline rolled her eyes and turned down the volume of the radio.  
"Some friends once saw him snort a line."  
"A what?"  
Caroline laughed.  
"A line. He took cocaine. Also, he hangs out with people who are…let's say, sketchy."  
"Like this Ian guy?  
Suddenly the smile was gone from Carolines face.  
"You know Ian? Ian Yoon? How?"  
"I don't know his last name. I met him at the mall. Christopher was there, too."  
"What did he do? Ian?"  
Carolines voice suddenly sounded weird. Hostile. Minho furrowed his brows.  
"Nothing. Asked if I wanted to hang out with him and his friends. But I said no."  
"It's better this way, Minho. Believe me. Christopher Bang and his friends…that's a whole other world. You really don't wanna be a part of that."


	5. Chapter 5

A world he didn't want to be a part of?

Minho kept thinking about what Caroline said even a week later, after passing the test to join the dance club.  
Felix Lee, a freshman two years his junior, who was already the dance captain and also had a Korean background, promised to help him out, if things were going to fast.  
Christopher hadn't shown up to music class this week, so Minho was asked to help the other students with their projects until he was back, so he could help him with the equipment. Skipping class really didn't seem to be a rare case with Christopher.  
  
Minho had come home to an empty house last night. Of course, his mother also had always worked a lot even when they still lived in Korea, but here, it almost felt like he was living alone. But he didn't want to complain. There was no one there to complain to anyways.  
Jennas (and kind of his) birthday party was this Friday and he hoped he'd have the chance to find some more friends there and become even better friends with the people he already knew. So he could finally erase Christopher from his mind.  
He kept thinking about him, in a way he never knew before. He wasn't _in love_. That felt different. No he was…fascinated.   
He had never met a person who was so unfathomable. People usually paid attention to him and Christopher didn't. And he wanted to change that.

He decided to make a call to Korea. Maybe one of his old friends would know what to do.

"Hyunjin? It's Minho."  
"Minho Hyung? How are you? How's Australia?"  
"It's okay. It's hot."  
"Hyung, you have to tell me everything about Australia! Do you know any slang yet? Did you meet a Koala bear? Or a Kangaroo?"  
While Hyunjin kept ranting about how he wanted to visit Australia, too, Minho drew circles on the note pad next to the phone, waiting for a chance to lead the conversation into the right direction.  
"What about you? What are Australian people like?"  
"Well, everyone is nice. Except for this one guy. He just won't talk to me."  
"He doesn't talk? What do you mean?"  
"He says 'Yes' and 'No', but the rest…we have two classes together."  
"Is he stupid?"  
"Hyunjin!"  
"Then why does it bother you so much?"  
"Because…okay, this is gonna sound weird but…I find him interesting."  
"Ooh, is he good looking? Like these Australian surfer boys, blond, muscular but he's shy and quiet-"  
"Well, no, he's Korean. He's about my height, has dyed hair, piercings, tattoos on his arms."  
"He has _what_? How old is he?"  
"Uhm, 17 I think, just like me."  
"Can you get tattoos in Australia with 17? Oh god, I don't know anyone with tattoos."  
"People say he deals with drugs." The second Minho said these words out loud, he wished he didn't.  
"…"  
"Hyunjin?"  
"Hyung, I'm sorry, but he sounds like a criminal hooligan. Maybe he lives in the desert? Since when are you interested in guys like this?"  
"Because no one else is! He likes music and he writes poems!"  
"Great. So he'll have a hobby in jail."  
"What do you mean 'jail'. Maybe he's just shy."  
"Hyung, honestly, forget about him. I bet there are lots of normal people at your school. "  
"Christopher's normal too."  
"Well, doesn't sound like it."  
Minho stayed quiet. He knew Hyunjin was only worried about him. From what he described, Christopher really did seem like every in-laws worst nightmare.  
"You'd just have to meet him in person.", he said then.  
"Mhm, sure. Hyung, you know long distance calls are expensive, I have to go. Call sometime again, yes? Take care of yourself and don't forget to eat. Next time you call, you have to teach me some slang."

Were this the kind of prejudices Christopher had to face every day? Did everyone else really think like Hyunjin? Or better - why was Minho the only one who didn't just see Christopher as some loser reject with no future? Was there something wrong with him?

As he pulled up at Jennas house with his mothers BMW for the first time, he took a deep breath. His 17th birthday didn't really differentiate from the others. His mother was stuck at work all day, but took the time to call him and tell him she loves him. So did his father. His mother also left him a present at the breakfast table, an expensive silver watch she insisted he'd wear to the party. Getting out of the car he greeted some people he knew from orchestra, recognized their faces but couldn't be bothered to remember their names, who were all standing on the porch, plastic cups in their hands while trying to talk louder than the music coming from inside. He only wore a white polo shirt and his swim trunks even though he didn't plan on using the pool. As soon as Minho entered the house he was greeted by Felix and Eleanor, Ashtons girlfriend. This would be a long night.

Several hours later most guests were more than tipsy, when Jenna realized that the coke was almost empty.  
"Someone has to go to the store real quick and get some more. Who's here with the car and not drunk?"   
The amount of raised hands was small.  
"I'll go with Minho, be back in 20 minutes!", Toby yelled and lightly pushed Minho by the small of his back towards the front door. Noticing the smell of beer lingering on Toby, Minho sat behind the steering wheel.

The tall swimmer and his friends had basically exterminated half the available beer cans by themselves, which seemingly hadn't bothered anyone. In general, Minho had the feeling that all the athletes out of his friends were the top of the top when it came to popularity. As a member of the Newtown athletes, you were basically allowed to do whatever and people would still think you're the coolest person in all of Australia.

"Can I ask you something?"  
Toby slurred his words a little and combined with his accent, it made it kinda hard for Minho to understand.  
"Sure." Minho answered.  
"Do you…like Caroline?"  
Minho furrowed his brows. So that was the reason Toby wanted to go with him.  
"Sure, I like her." Minho watched how Toby shifted in his seat. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. And even if he did, Minho was quicker.  
"She's cool. She's a good friend."  
Toby visibly relaxed.  
"Yeah.", he said. "She's cool. Listen, I like you, Minho. I think we're gonna be good friends."  
Despite Minho thinking that his last sentence sounded like threat, he smiled.  
And with that they kept silent for the rest of the ride. 

Minho had to admit, that especially Caroline with her long, dark hair and pretty brown eyes was appealing to most people. And Minho really thought she was cool - but that's it.  
He didn't want to be her special little accessoire she could use to impress her parents.

While Toby kept trying all the buttons on his radio, Minho decided to park at the next best store he could find. Just as he was trying to exit the car, he went to get his wallet from his pocket, but couldn't seem to find it.  
"Hey, Toby, I can't find my wallet. How about you go ahead."  
"Alright, buddy, I'll be right back." Toby said and dissapeared in the store. Meanwhile Minho looked for his wallet and one semi-panic attack later, he finally found it under his seat and tried to fit it in the small pocket of his swim trunks.

"Oi, cutie. Long time no see. It's almost like you're stalking me."  
Minhos head shot up as he heard the familiar voice and when he turned around - just like he thought. Ian was standing in front of him, half hidden by the shadow next to the illuminated store sign. A in the dark glowing, red dot went up and then got dropped. Ians biker boots scrunched on the floor as he put out the cigarette. His black leatherjacket almost made him seem invisible in the night.  
Minho stayed quiet, looking to get a safe distance between himself and Ian. He noticed the faint smell of alcohol as the other continued.  
"You need any help this time? Or are you gonna say 'no thank you' again?"  
Minho bit his lip. Nervously he played with the wallet in his hands and looked over Ians shoulder. The old car from last time was there again. And so were Ians friends.  
He wondered whether Christopher was there, too.

"I'm good, thanks. You can go back to your friends.", Minho finally answered with a, as he hoped, confident tone in his voice. Ian smirked and took a step towards him. Almost robotic, Minho took a step back. He just had to stall time. He didn't know why, but unlike Christopher, who fascinated Minho, Ian only seemed dangerous to him. Said registered his uncertainty with a half-smile.  
"Mhm...yeah I could do that. But maybe I'd rather stay here."  
He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket and for some stupid reason, Minho jumped when the lighter clicked and a small flame appeared. Ian inhaled deeply and Minho actually managed not to wave his hand when the smoke came his direction.  
"Do you want one?"  
Ian offered him the cigarette package. He shook his head.  
"I don't smoke."  
"Have you ever tried?"  
Again, he shook his head.  
"Then this would be a good opportunity for you to have your first time, right?"  
Ian laughed at the innuendo. The package was still hovering infront of Minhos face.  
"Did Daddy tell you not to? And you're a good boy, right?"  
Minho didn't reply. He didn't want to provoke Ian with his answer in any way.  
"So now you're not talking to me anymore? Come on, I was just joking. I'm sure you're real tough guy, aren't you."  
Again, he laughed and Minho was about to just turn around, enter his car and leave. But he was sure Ian wouldn't like that.  
And also, Toby wasn't back yet and he couldn't just leave the poor, drunken bastard here.

"Come on, don't be mad at me. Do you actually have a name, or should I keep saying ''cutie"?  
Minho hesitated.  
"Minho. My name is Minho."  
"And what do you usually do, when you're not stalking me, Minho?", Ian asked in Korean.  
"I don't think that's any of your business.", Minho replied in English.  
"Woah, calm down, Min. I'm just interested in you. When you see a guy all alone two times in a row you gotta check in on him, right?"  
"I'm not alone."  
"Brought one of your athlete friends, yeah. But where is he now? I could have kidnapped you three times already, if I wanted to."  
Ian was still smiling, but Minho took another step back. The problem was, he was right.  
"Don't be scared, Minnie, I'm not planning on doing that. I'm waiting for you to come on your own."

"Ian, what's taking you so long? CB almost smoked all the weed, there's not gonna be anything left for you!", someone suddenly yelled from where Ians car was standing. Minho almost cried of relief.  
Ian turned around and raised a hand.  
"I'm sorry, Minnie, but you heard - I'm needed over there. But remember - next time I catch you all alone at night…"  
He saluted and for a second Minho thought, the whole thing was finally over, when Toby suddenly came back with the coke. The mood shifted immediately.

"What is this douche doing here? Minho, do you know this guy?"  
No sign of a smile on Ians face and Minho immediately knew what Caroline meant, when she said he didn't want to have anything to do with Christophers friends. Ian grit his teeth and Minho was sure that this time he wasn't grabbing a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his jacket.  
"Hey, if it isn't the captain of the swim team. Where'd you leave your little friends?"  
Minho put one hand on Tobys shoulder.  
"Come on, Toby, let's go. Jenna and the others are waiting."  
"My little friends aren't hanging around on parking lots with some lowlifes at night.", Toby hissed.  
"Toby, come on!", as dominant as Minho wanted to sound, none of the other two seemed to hear him. Panicking, he looked back at Ian's friends. If they'd come over now, too…  
"Yeah, Tobias, be a good boy and listen to little Minho. Piss off."  
"I go when I want to!", Toby snarled back.  
"And I want to go _now_ , that's why we're leaving _now_.", Minho interrupted again and stood between them. He just hoped that Ian was all words and no action.  
"See, Minho? Told you, you're tough guy. Tougher than our little princess right here. You'd fight me anytime, right?" The smile was back on Ians face and Minho shivered. But it wasn't Ian who shoved Minho until he almost tripped.  
"Leave Minho out of this. He doesn't have any business with scum like you."  
"Well, we meet way too often for it to be coincidence, don't we? Are you into him? Is that-"  
"You fucking-"  
"STOP! Toby, I'm leaving now, either stay or come with me!"

Minho pushed Toby with all the strength he could put up. He ripped the sixpack coke out of his hand and walked back to his car. He would love to just leave Toby here and drive back without him. But then the others would ask questions. So he sat in the car and started the engine. _Come on, Toby!_  
And finally. In the last second, the door on the passenger side opened and Toby let himself fall into the seat with a scowl on his face. As they drove past Ian, who still stood grinning at the side of the store, Toby showed him his middlefinger. Ian simply looked after them.


	6. Chapter 6

After that, Jennas Party was over for Minho.   
He was mad at Toby, who let himself get agitated, and he himself was still pretty scared.  
"Minho, I'm not joking, you can't talk to losers like that. Do you know what your parents would do if they found out? What would the others do if they knew what kind of people you interact with?". Toby was ranting while Minho was driving back, his Lips pressed into a thin line.  
"Interact with?! I can't remember inviting him to talk to me!" Minho gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white.  
"So he just randomly started talking to you? Do you know him?"  
"You think I walked over there and asked for the time?!"  
Toby stayed quiet. The radio was turned off, all they heard was the humming of the engine.  
"You shouldn't have let yourself get agitated like that. That's what he was going for.", Minho murmured.  
"Someone had to put that fucker in his place. He thinks he can do whatever he wants. You know what he does? He's a tattoo artist. That's all you need to know about him."  
Tattoo artist…Christopher had tattoos. Minho wondered if he got those from Ian. That would explain how Christopher, who's still a minor, got his.  
"So you had to pick a fight with him?" Minho was getting more annoyed by the minute. Mainly because of Tobys fragile masculinity.  
Toby rolled his eyes.   
"Do you really think I'm going to let him talk to me, or you, like this? People like him are not like us, they should know their place. You're one of us, Minho. And this Ian is nothing."

Minho doubted that Ian would think the same way.  
He went home early after the incident, had his first real breakfast with his mother on Sunday morning since they arrived in Sydney and also his first longer conversation with her. Ms. Lee was delighted, hearing about Minhos new friends and the clubs he chose, then told him about the new piano teacher she chose. Every Tuesday he'd be tutored by a Mrs. Bendley, right after book club.

Together they unpacked the rest of their stuff and then went to go get groceries. Luckily, this time there was no old car with any juveniles inside. He probably wouldn't leave the house anymore as soon as the sun went down. Ian may have said, he would wait until Minho would come to him on his own, but he really didn't want to test that out.  
The weekend went by quick, and during orchestra on Monday Minho was told to practice 'For Elise' by Beethoven for the coming weeks. Still on the keyboard. The audacity.  
"Cool, that we finally have someone on the keys. You could join our school band, if you want. Interested?", some guy asked him after the lesson.  
"Sorry, I only play classics.", Minho replied politely.  
The guy grumbled.  
"Damn. The last pianist apparently was a real prodigy. He also was a good rapper but ditched the band after his first few months here. Kind of a freak, people say. Never met him though."  
With that the kid got Minhos attention again.  
"Freak? Why? Does he still go here?"  
"Yeah, I think he's in your grade. It's this blond, Asian guy with the tattoos, what was his name…"  
"Christopher. Christopher Bang.", Minho muttered. This boy was full of surprises.

Then it came. Tuesday, the day Christopher would find out that from now on Minho would continue to work with him in the auditorium. Together with Jenna and Toby he entered the music room. Neither the day before, nor today had he seen Christopher anywhere. What if he wasn't here today again? If he was sick, or skipping class?

But Minhos worried for no reason. Christopher sat unbothered on the same chair as last time, with the same hairstyle and the same bored expression on his face. Minho took a deep breath before walking towards the very back and sitting down in his chair.  
"Hey.", he murmured, not really expecting an answer.  
Christopher briefly looked at him.  
"Hey."  
Then he looked out the window. At least Minho knew he wouldn't ignore him.

Mr. Barnes walked around to give everybody their assignments to work on. As he arrived on their desk and gave Christopher his sheet, he stopped.  
"Christopher."  
"Yes, sir?"  
"You will finish the project today, right?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Afterwards you can go to the auditorium and finish up the sound system, the boom box, however you kids call it."  
Christophers expression turned from bored to happy - really, he even smiled a little.  
Minho on the other side, grimaced. Good to know how happy Christopher was about getting away from him.  
"I talked to Minho last time, and he'll help you until the others are done with their assignments."  
As soon as the smile came, it disappeared. Christopher glanced at Minho. Again, he nervously started playing with his lip-ring. True delight probably looked different.  
"That's gonna be fine, right Christopher?"  
"Of course, sir."

It wasn't. And you could tell by his face.  
He ignored Minho until he was done with the assignment. He went over it once more and then walked to the front desk to hand it in. As Mr. Barnes went to look for the right key for the auditorium, Christopher quickly went for the door. He probably hoped, his teacher would've forgotten about Minho.  
"Minho, are you coming? Christopher will show you the way to the auditorium."  
He wondered if Mr. Barnes had noticed the tortured look on Christophers face. Minho got up and followed him out of the room. Would he have reacted the same way if he was any other student? Because there really wasn't any reason for Christopher to dislike him more than other people. Like a lost puppy, Minho walked after Christopher, who seemingly could care less if Minho would've got lost on the way or had broken a leg.

"So." he finally said as they arrived and turned around. "You can see if you can get the mess out of the cables. Or you can go take a walk outside, I don't care."  
Silently, Minho sat down on the floor of the part of the stage that was hidden by curtains and tried to sort through the cable-mess. Through a gap in the curtains he could see a bit of the Halloween decorations. It was incredibly silent, the only thing he heard being Christopher pulling a chair from the side of the stage and sitting down in front of a mixing desk. Minho shifted his head to the side. There were a ton of different buttons and sliders and he was sure that if he had to work with that, he would have no idea what to do.

"You really know what you're doing, don't you? You also work for the school radio, right?"  
Minho looked down at the cables and as he looked up to see Christophers face he realized he'd been watching him, but now looked to the side.  
"Yes.", once again, a simple answer.

Right as Minho thought, Christopher would get down to business and somehow work all these buttons and what not, the blond leaned back in his chair and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, then lit it. Minho stared at him, at a loss for words. Telling him that smoking on school-grounds wasn't allowed, was of course not something Minho would do right now.   
This cigarette seemed weird anyway. It looked self-made, smelled kind of sweet, not as horrible as regular cigarettes and the smoke looked kinda blue. But if that wasn't a cigarette, then what…

"Hey, do your friends sometimes call you 'CB'?", he asked, warily. He hoped for a negative answer.  
"Possibly."  
"Then you were at the store Saturday night? With Ian?"  
"If you already know…"  
"And then this", he pointed at the thing between Christophers fingers "is not a cigarette."  
"Nope."  
No excuse, no teasing answer. Minho had asked a question, Christopher had answered.  
Speechless, Minho watched Christopher inhale the smoke. A small rustle could be heard, as the dry weed burned. Minho thought the smell made him dizzy.  
"Why do you do that?", he asked curiously. Why do people do drugs?  
"What?"  
"Smoke weed."  
Christopher seemed to find that question funny, he chuckled and looked at him from the side.  
"Why do you care?"  
"Because I do. " Minho held back from rolling his eyes.  
"Huh..."  
"So?"  
Christopher took another drag.  
"Helps me relax."  
"Why? You don't look like you're under a lot of stress."  
"Really?"Again, that chuckle. But at least they were somewhat talking to eachother. Minho was not gonna let go of that. He took a breath. It actually didn't smell bad, just _different_.  
"Would you let me take a drag, if I asked?"   
"No." Christopher, who had been leaning back in the chair and watched him, now looked away while sitting up straight.  
"Why not?"  
"Listen, how about you stay in your nice little world without problems, with your rich daddy and the swim team and the 'cool' people", he dragged his voice as he said 'cool'. "and I stay in mine." On the side of the chair he put his joint out and put the rest back in his pocket. Then he grabbed a microphone and plugged it into some machine.

You were balancing on a thin line if you wanted to converse with Christopher Bang.

"How do you know if I have problems?"  
Christopher didn't answer. Instead he pushed a few buttons on the mixing desk.  
"You don't even know me, how do you wanna know what my world looks like?", Minho asked.  
"Exactly, I don't know you and you don't know me. Why don't we leave it at that."  
Minho stared at Christophers side-profile in disbelief. Why did this guy try to block every single ounce of politeness and good will out? What was his problem?

"I'm sorry that I care for other people, and try to get to know them!", he snarled why angrily pulling at a cable.  
"Wasn't what you got to know until now enough?", Christopher asked after a few moments of silence.  
Minho looked up at the blond.  
"No, it's not. Because I just can't believe that you don't care about anything. Because I want to know why you act like that. Not everybody can be as emotionless as you!"  
"Emotionless?", Christopher sounded surprised, but also amused.  
"Because at one point I stopped caring about all the things your little friends keep doing to me?"  
Still smiling, he shook his head and then continued to work on the microphone.

With that the conversation was over. Minho didn't know how to answer so he didn't say anything.   
At the book club Christopher sat on the same bench as last time and drew something on the note book he brought.  
At the end of the school day he disappeared towards the parking lot while Minho walked to the bus station. This time he wouldn't miss it.  
His piano lesson went well. He tried his best, since he knew his mother would call the teacher from time to time and ask about his progress. But even though he really tried focusing on the scores and the music, his mind continuously went back to the weird conversation he had with Christopher. He didn't seem to have gotten mad at any moment.

During lunch the next day, he didn't talk about the incident with anyone. He didn't want to remind Toby of the meeting with Ian at the parking lot.  
Luckily everyone was discussing the Halloween party at Carolines place. But then later at dance practice, the last Saturday came up again.

"Oh, by the way, Liz asked about you.", Jenna told Minho while Felix was leaning atop of him, helping him stretch.  
"Who?", he asked while trying to touch his toes with his fingertips.  
"Liz! From Fort Street High. The pretty girl with the dark hair and the green eyes. She asked if you're new and what you're like."  
"Oh…", Felix let go of him and Minho sat up straight with a tortured face.  
"She'll be at the party on Friday. Should I introduce you two?"  
Minho hesitated.  
"Uhm…I'll think about it. I'll tell you on Friday. So how does it work tonight?"  
"Tonight? Oh, the school party. Well, it's actually kinda fun. The school band always plays music and there'll be food and stuff. But no alcohol, so you can't compare to a house party of course."  
Felix rolled his eyes at Jenna.  
"You'll only get in if you're dressed up though.", he said.  
Minho wondered whether Christopher would come. Hopefully, he wouldn't bring Ian.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say thank you for all the Kudos and lovely comments. I never thought this work would get much attention. I am just beyond happy right now. Please keep on enjoying

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air, wanna come?"  
"Nah, I'm good."  
Minho sighed. It was obvious - Toby was mad at him. And he knew exactly why. The whole evening Caroline has been making more or less subtle advances towards him, Minho could barely save himself from. If he wanted to get some of the punch, Caroline was there asking him to get her another cup, if he wanted to dance he was met by Caroline, _by chance_. If he sat down at one of the tables to take a break, it was Caroline who suddenly sat next to him and asked if he was alright. Minho was annoyed, Toby was mad. Jenna had told him that before Minho arrived, Toby thought he had a chance with the dark haired Cheerleader. And now he was convinced Minho was ruining it for him.  
So he was keeping his distance from Minho, who stood all alone between all the people in the decorated auditorium. It really seemed that the entire school was here. It was full and loud.  
Minho sighed again and fixed the headband with the cat ears on his head. So he'd go outside on his own. At least Caroline hadn't noticed it yet.

He grabbed a cup of punch and squeezed himself through the mass of people to get to the parking lot next to the auditorium. As soon as the doors closed behind him, he could barely hear the music. Instead somewhere from far away, he could hear the sound of guitar playing.  
Minho closed his eyes. He missed his friends. They had always celebrated Halloween together by wearing matching costumes. He remembered begging his mother to buy a costume when he was younger and her sewing one herself instead. This time it seemed, she forgot about Halloween. She also had another business meeting tomorrow. At this point Minho could just get his own apartment. It wouldn't make a difference.  
Minho opened his eyes as he suddenly felt he wasn't alone anymore. If Caroline was bothering him again, he'd just-  
"See, what did I say? Next time you're alone at night…"  
Ian sat down next to him with a grin and Minho immediately backed away.  
"Who's stalking who now?", he asked harshly before looking down at the concrete beneath his feet again.  
To his surprise Minho realized he was kinda glad it was 'just' Ian and not Caroline, who was looking at him with an amused expression. On the other side, he knew by now that Ian wouldn't just tackle and rob him. He had that opportunity two times, he wouldn't change his mind now. Hopefully.  
"You could almost think we're friends, as often as we meet, right?"  
"But you usually like your friends, don't you?"  
"Oh, you don't like me? That really hurts. No one forces you to stay…"  
Minho didn't have to look at Ian to know that he was smirking. He was always smirking.  
"I was here first. If someone leaves, it's you.", Minho replied.  
It was weird, but Minho almost felt like it was fun, fighting with Ian. Even though he couldn't even say he liked him. Pretty much the opposite. In a subliminal kind of way he felt threatened by the big guy with the biker boots and the ripped jeans. Very confusing.

Ian laughed.  
He took a sip out of the beer bottle he brought and then followed Minhos eyes, which he kept on the dark parking lot. The light of the auditorium wasn't reaching very far.  
"Why are you even here? No fun in there, with your cute school friends?" Minho ignored his teasing tone.  
"I wanted to get some air."  
"And there was no prom queen that volunteered to go with you?"  
"Luckily not.", Minho murmured, but Ian heard him anyway.  
"Oh, do I hear a rebellion against the rich and the beautiful?"  
"Listen, I have no idea who you are or what you want from me. If I wanted to have pointless conversations, I would come to you, otherwise I'd like to be left alone!"  
"Did I hit a nerve?"  
"YOU'RE getting on my nerves!"  
Ian was silent for a moment. Thinking, apparently.  
"You want a taste?"  
He was offering his beer bottle, which was still half full. At first Minho wanted to decline. Wanted to go back inside, drink some punch, dance and avoid Caroline. Forget Christopher, Ian and who else and have fun with his friends.

But then, almost robotically, he reached for the bottle. He didn't drink alcohol. He couldn't stomach it and his parents made it clear that would stay this way until his 18th birthday. On the other side…his parents weren't here. His father only called once on his birthday, and his mother was basically only during the weekend present. Half a bottle of beer wouldn't hurt anyone. Maybe then he'd be brave enough to tell Caroline that he wasn't interested.

The bottle felt nice and cool in his hand. He was about to bring it to his lips as someone pulled it away with gentle force. Warm fingers brushed his hand and gave Minho goosebumps, and as he noticed the dragon tattoos on the forearms, he didn't have to look up anymore to see who stood infront of him.  
"Stop messing around, Ian. Are you coming? The girls wanna go to Andys place and it's boring here. Also, the JD's empty."  
Again Christopher wore a black beanie, ripped jeans and a sleeveless band shirt. The bruise Minho had discovered about two weeks ago was almost gone.  
"Chris, buddy! Sit with me and my new friend Minnie!"  
Annoyed, Minho looked up at Christophers face who didn't bother to look at him. And why did he take the beer from him?  
"Ian, we wanna go. There's nothing going on here."  
"Okay, you're right. Maybe you wanna come along, Minho?"  
"He doesn't. Come on, now."  
"I can decide for myself if I want to or not, thank you very much.", Minho snarled. Belligerent, he looked up at him. He should stop treating him like some annoying little kid. If he was gonna ignore him, at least do it right.  
Christopher sighed deeply, Ian laughed.  
"Minnie here always acts innocent, but in reality he's super hardcore!"  
"Is that so?", Christopher asked bored.  
"You bet. He put himself between me and this swim club asshole when he thought he could act a fool. Shocking, right?"  
"Unbelievable."  
"Listen, what is your problem?", Minho then asked Christopher. He really wanted to go with Ian now, purely out of spite, even though he knew that would be the most stupid thing ever.  
"Didn't I tell you that on Tuesday?"  
"Oh, so you know eachother?"  
"Minho's in the same music class as me."  
"And the same book club Mr. I-don't-care-about-other-people!"  
Christopher sighed again.  
"How cute!", Ian smirked. "It's almost like we're a little family, right?" He laughed and took his beer back from Christopher.  
"Sure, dumbass. Alright, Minho. Do you wanna go with me, Ian and the others to Andys place and get drunk? You'd also have to sleep there then because no one is gonna take you home."  
Solely by his tone Minho could tell that his answer had to be no. At least no 'told you so', when Minho shook his head with his lips pressed into a thin line.  
He only nodded, pulled Ian up and made his way back to the car.

"Alright, Minnie-kittie, I have to go. But if you're free on Friday - we have a gig at the 'Soda Factory' at 9pm. Drop by if you want!" With that Ian grinned at him a last time before following Christopher. And Minho was alone again.

"Do any of you know the 'Soda Factory'?", Minho asked five minutes later as he stood next to Felix and Ashton in the auditorium.  
"Soda Factory? Isn't that the place at the 16th Wentworth?", Felix wondered.  
Ashton nodded.  
"It's a bar, sometimes bands or other local artists play there. Never been there, people say it's a pretty nasty place."  
"Why?"  
"Well, everybody knows. If you need something - you'll get it there 100 percent."  
"If I…need something?", Minho was confused.  
"Drugs. You get everything there. Christopher Bang hangs around there a lot, my older brother told me. Apparently he's in some kind of band or group that plays there regularly. Nicholas says they're not bad. But he only went there once. Why do you ask?"  
"No reason. Anyone want a drink?"

The next Friday, Minho made a decision.  
If Christophers band was playing at 9, he could still be at Carolines place at 10pm. He'd just be a little late. It's not like he wants to see the entire show, just listen to them a bit. And since he had absolutely no interest in drugs, it wouldn't be dangerous for him. He just wanted to know what kind of music Christopher made. Christopher, who writes, who knows music and apparently was a good rapper too. Christopher, who always ignored him and treated him like a child, when he decided to talk to him. Christopher, whose friends got drunk on the weekend, smoked weed and looked more than unusual. Exactly that Christopher. How could a person have so many facets?

With the bus it took Minho about 20 minutes to get from his place to the 16th Wentworth. So he'd definetely get there and also get home. Skeptically, Minho looked at himself in the mirror. Black jeans, a simple black shirt, his hair a bit messy. He could wear his black converse, then he shouldn't stand out from the crowd too much.  
But then there was the fact he had to get home before going to Carolines place afterwards, to put on his costume. Whatever, he'd manage that.

One look at the time told him, that he had to get going. Hopefully, that band would start on time. The bus was almost empty and Minho sat down in the second row, close to the driver. While the bus took off towards downtown, Minho nervously rubbed his hands. He's never been downtown, especially alone. And at night. Hopefully, he'd find the bar right away. The colorful lights of the city flew by the window. His mother would kill him if she knew that Minho went into the city without her knowing. To go into a bar known for being a literal drug market, to listen to the band of a group of sketchy guys. Better not think about it.

As soon as he got off the bus, he scanned his surroundings. Some of the street lights weren't working so it was unusually dark. There were almost no people around except for a bit further down the street, a group of people stood in front of a door with a neon sign above it. The 'Soda Factory'. At least he didn't get lost.

He made his way towards the bar, tried to look as cool as possible. Just act like being alone was normal. As if he had friends waiting for him. He stood on his tiptoes as soon as he arrived at the queue. It was loud, people were laughing even though the waiting mass of people really didn't seem trustworthy. Minho almost stood out because of how normal he looked. The young woman in front of him wore a blue dyed afro and gigantic earrings. The guy at the door had a tattoo in his face. Men with long hair and women with buzz cuts didn't seem to be unusual here. One girl was only wearing a sheer mesh top with nothing but stickers covering her breasts.

Because he didn't want to be caught staring, Minho looked at the ground and buried his sweating hands in his pockets. Maybe he should've asked Felix to come with him. No, nevermind. He was way too young for this. Minho had the feeling that everyone knew, he didn't belong here.  
  
"ID and four bucks."  
The tattooed man at the door reached his hand for the entrance fee and his ID, and Minho hastily searched his pockets. The mans shoulders were almost wider than the door, through which loud music and stuffy air came.  
"You're not even 18 yet. There's the exit."  
He pointed at the sidewalk next to them and Minho didn't even want to turn around. How embarrassing.  
"I...I'm a friend, uh, of Ian. And Christopher. They're playing tonight. Ian invited me."  
"Oh, the guys from Triple X. Ian didn't say anything. Actually, I'm not supposed to let you in."  
Minho tried to look as disheartened as possible.   
"I'm not staying for long anyway, I have to go to a Halloween party."  
The bouncer grumbled.  
"Fine, as long as you're gone by twelve, I don't care."  
He gave him the money and the guy made space for Minho to step through the door into the bar.  
The air was thick and it was already way too full. At first, Minho apologized to everyone he accidentally bumped into, but at one point he just stayed quiet. No one cared, anyway. As he finally sat down at the counter, he let out a relieved sigh.  
"One coke, please."  
"With what?", the barkeeper asked and grabbed a cup.  
"Uh..."  
"Jacky, Captain Morgan or beer?"  
"Just coke, if that's okay."  
The guy shrugged and filled the cup. Minho paid and made this way through the crowd to the front of the small stage. There was nothing on there, except for a mixing desk and a big banner with three Xs drawn on it. It was almost 9pm. In Minhos opinion, it could start now.


	8. Chapter 8

A minute past nine, a group of four men entered the stage. The crowd cheered and Minho shortly participated. He only got himself something to drink so he knew what to do with his hands. Because he was sure he was the only one here who didn't know anyone. He wasn't used to being alone in a crowd. Not a feeling he would need daily.  
Christopher came to the front with a microphone in his hand. Today, he wore the same ripped jeans but boots instead of sneakers, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He looked a little lost under the spotlight. He cleared his throat shortly, which made someone in the back of the crowd cheer.  
"Go, Baby!"  
Minho turned around. Just a few feet from him stood the dark haired woman who picked Christopher up from book club.   
Christopher smiled a bit, then started talking.

"Hey guys."  
Slow claps.  
"Thanks for showing up tonight. We're Triple X. Uhm…have fun."  
Minho understood that Christopher must have been terribly nervous. If he would have stood like this in front of the students of Newtown High they'd probably throw tomatoes at him. Except for some whispering, it stayed quiet here.  
Then the music started and Minho forgot about the crowd and the time. Triple X made entirely different music than Minho knew. He knew about Hip Hop but Triple X didn't sound like the Hip Hop music in the radio. This was different. A good different.  
  
Christophers rapping wasn't perfect. He messed up his breathing from time to time and Minho could hear his voice shake. But the sound gave him goosebumps and made a shiver run down his spine. Christopher had an incredible stage presence, which made it impossible for Minho to look away. He rapped with such power that it was hard for Minho to comprehend that this was the quiet school freak, without friends and no interest in finding some.   
  
Just as Christopher, a bit out of breath, announced the last song, Minho looked at his watch. 9:45 already! If he wanted to be a Carolines party before 11pm he'd have to hurry now. But still, he wanted to hear the last song.  
"Time flows like water, in the blink of an eye, I'm dead, I don't want that…", Christopher started and Minho recognized the words from the paper Christopher had lost during his first day of book club. So not a poem, but a song.  
  
After the song, Christopher quickly said goodbye, bowed a little and then disappeared behind the curtains. Ian, who had only been working the mixing desk the entire time, waved with a wide grin, also started clapping and then followed Christopher backstage. So that was Triple X.  
Minho was still in awe of Chirstophers voice and decided to go the toilet before running to the bus station.  
The toilets at the 'Soda Factory' were dirty and dark. The kind of toilet where you wondered if washing your hands wouldn't make it worse. Broken mirrors, dirty sinks and graffiti on the walls. The floor was wet and the smell made Minhos stomach turn. No, he'd rather go at home because this was simply…disgusting.  
  
He turned around and exited trough the door before bumping into someone.  
"Sorry.", he murmured and looked at the pretty nasty looking guy who had now turned around. He started grinning and Minho grimaced at the sight of his missing teeth. The man stepped in front of him and leaned at the wall, stopping Minho from walking past him.

"Oi, mate. You look pretty lonely. Are you alone?"  
"Uh...no. My friends…are at the bar. That's where I'd like to go now."  
The man continued staring. The smell that was coming from him wasn't any better than the one in the bathroom and Minho turned his head to the side.  
"Well, who are ya here with?"  
"I don't think you know them."  
"Really? You know what I think? I think you're all alone."  
Minho looked down the badly illuminated hallway. The people were lost in their own little worlds, no one didn't seem to care for each other.   
Then he noticed right next to him, a small sachet of white powder changing owners. Great, now he really wanted to leave.

"You want some?"  
"What?", Minho asked distractedly and looked back at the guy with the bad teeth.  
"I'm Lewis."  
Minho swallowed and felt his heart race. He wanted to leave. _Quickly._  
Lewis smirked.  
"Got some stamps, if you're in for a whole new experience."  
Stamps? Whatever that was, Minho was sure he wasn't interested.  
"No, thanks. I just wanna go back to my-"  
"Now, wait a second!"  
Still smirking Lewis grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving. The cold, wet hand on his skin made Minho shiver.  
"Let me go!"  
"You don't have to be scared of me, mate. Come on, we'll go outside and I'll give you something, you'll never be scared again."  
"Let go!"  
Disgusted, Minho tried to pry the skinny fingers off his arm, but the guy was pretty strong, despite his bones sticking out.   
Minho felt himself sweat. Why was no one helping him?  
  
"Minho?"  
Minho turned around and almost cried of relief. From the other side of the hallway, Christopher had appeared and stared at him in disbelief. His eyes wandered from him towards Lewis who was still grabbing onto Minhos arm for dear life.   
"Lewis? Let go of him, he won't buy."  
"Chris! Nice show. I just wanted to give him a sample. Won't want him to miss anything."  
Minho started shaking. Lewis grinned at him and now he noticed the tiny pupils. Oh god.  
"I get it, mate. Just let me talk to him before, okay?"  
"If you say so, Chris. Also, I still got some Meth, so if you're interested…you know where to find me."  
Christophers expression darkened for a second, but then he slightly shook his head and when he looked at Minho, his face was as expressionless as always.  
And finally, Lewis let go of Minho. Immediately, he stumbled backwards and rubbed the spot where Lewis' hand had been until now. His fingers had left red marks.   
He grinned one more time before disappearing in the crowd.

"What the fuck are you doing here?", Christopher asked and for the first time since Minho knew him, he sounded angry. Minho leaned at the wall as two men walked between him and Christopher and nodded at the blond rapper.  
"Saw your show. You're really good.", Minho said quietly. He tried to calm down his heartbeat, but actually he just felt sick.  
"And that's why you come here alone at night? Who talked you into that?"  
"But Ian said-"  
"Ian! Minho, stop, we both now you didn't come here because Ian asked so nicely!"

Minho preferred not to answer. He had a weird taste in his mouth.  
Christopher seemed to grow tired of waiting for an answer that probably woudn't come so he grabbed his wrist. Minho froze at the spot an took a step back. Christopher noticed and looked back at him.  
"I won't hurt you, I'm just gonna get you out of here."  
Minho took a deep breath before looking down and letting Christopher lead him through the crowd to a backdoor. Stepping outside, they found themselves in a cluttered backyard, the emergency exit sign glowing above them.  
  
Christopher let go of his wrist and crossed his arms in front of him. The sleeves of the leather jacket were hiding the dragon tattoos.   
Too bad, actually. After you got used to the sight, they looked pretty.  
"So, what's this all about?"  
Minho looked up from his arms to his face. Questioning and still a bit angry he stood in front of the heavy steel door and looked at Minho.   
He started rubbing his arms as he suddenly felt the chilly air outside.  
"Like I said, I wanted to see your show. How was I supposed to know that-"  
"Yeah, I got it. Trouble usually finds you, isn't that right?"  
Resigned, Christopher lit a cigarette and then looked around the backyard.  
"Excuse me?"  
"I mean all of this.", he pointed towards the bar. "Ian, Lewis. Why do these guys always come to you?"  
"Well I wasn't screaming 'here' for sure."  
Christophers lips curled lightly and he took another drag of his cigarette.  
"But you're friends with them. With Ian at least. He can't be that horrible."  
"Because I'm friends with him?", Christopher asked amused.  
Minho shrugged and then nodded. Christopher looked up at the sky.  
"What are you gonna do now?"  
Minho shurgged again.  
"Take the bus home, change, go to Carolines Halloween party."

Christopher raised his eyebrows.  
"Caroline's having a party today? And you're too late because you wanted to see a mediocre band in a dirty bar? You're a bit weird, aren't you?"  
Minho stayed quiet. Tonight, he was the one who didn't want to talk much. He didn't think that Christopher would wanna hear, that it was worth it for him. That he would do it again, if he had the chance. He just wouldn't have gone to the toilet. He imagined the last part of the evening a bit different.  
"By the way, the next bus takes off in 50 minutes."  
" _What?_ I completely forgot because of this stupid Lewis…ugh, shit."  
"Why didn't you take the car? You don't drink anyway."  
"How do you wanna know that?", Minho grumbled but realized he was being unfair. Christopher did in fact help him. But he didn't seem to mind Minhos whining.  
"My mother is at a business dinner. She has the car. And she would kill me if she knew I'm here."  
"Understandable. What about your dad? Can't he pick you up, before something else happens to you?"  
Minho bit the inside of his cheek.  
"He doesn't live here."

Christopher sighed. He was done smoking the cigarette and put it out on the ground.  
"I'll drive you."  
"What?"  
Minho thought he misheard.  
"I'll drive you, it can't be far."  
"You don't have to. The bus will be here soon."  
"In 45 minutes. Do you really wanna wait at a bus station in the dark, all alone? Lewis was one of the nicer guys, if you know what I mean."  
Minho swallowed.  
"Wouldn't you rather…hang out with your friends inside?"  
"Yes.", Christopher replied dryly. "But I don't want it to be my fault if you get robbed or something. I'd feel bad for the rest of my life. Wait here, I'll get the car."

And with that Christopher disappeared through the door and shortly Minho feared, he just wouldn't show up again. He looked around, uncomfortable. The backyard was surrounded by an old picket fence with a wide gateway. Minho went there, to stand under a street light. Hopefully, he would really come back.

In general, Minho was surprised he even offered to give him a ride home. He didn't think Christopher was ignorant, but he also didn't think he'd be caring enough to drive others home, purely so they wouldn't have to be alone in the dark. He just didn't get him. And even though he had the feeling he understood him less everytime they met, he still didn't want to turn away from him. He didn't want to get scared away by his cold exterior.   
Should he really come back with the car there'd be way more to him than just the _school freak_. Then there'd be a side to him that was worth getting to know. If he'd really come back.  
  
It had gotten cold outside and Minho was shivering under his t-shirt. He kept looking around, didn't want to stand out again. He really thought it wouldn't be too obvious, that he was different. That he didn't fit in with the other guests that visited the 'Soda Factory'. He thought it would be enough to just put on similar clothes as everyone else. But apparently it wasn't that easy. Probably because he himself knew that this was new to him, different. _A whole other world._   
It was an incredibly discouraging feeling, he had never felt before. It seemed to make him so fragile, vulnerable, standing alone in front of a crowd. He could consider himself lucky, that it was only Lewis he had met in the hallway. But even Lewis seemed to have basically felt that he was new, new and unknowing. Defenseless.  
Minho shivered and looked down the street.  
The headlights of a beige car creeped over the street and eventually came to a halt in front of him. And even though the roof was closed this time, Minho recognized the car of Christophers girlfriend. He took a quick look through the window, and indeed, Christopher was sitting behind the steering wheel. And this time he didn't hesitate, opening the door and letting himself fall onto the cold faux leather seat.

Christopher started driving, but didn't say anything. And for once, Minho was glad he didn't. Music came from the radio at a low volume, songs he had never heard before, but which he liked. That fitted the moment. That fitted the dark night, the silence in the car, Christopher. That fitted him? He didn't know.


	9. Chapter 9

Minho had his eyes closed, his head leaning against the cool window of the car. The humming of the engine was somehow making him sleepy. He really wasn't in the mood for Carolines party.

"We're here."  
Minho opened his eyes. Indeed, they were standing in front of his house. Everything was still dark inside, meaning luckily, his mother was still out. But the thought of entering the cold, empty house made him shiver. It wasn't home to him. More like a hotel room. He hadn't arrived yet. Then he remembered that Christopher probably wanted to go back and unbuckled his seat belt. The clicking drowned his sigh out.  
"So there's really no one home, huh?", Christopher asked who also seemed to have noticed the darkness behind the windows.  
"Like usually. It's okay."   
Minho opened the car door before looking back at Christopher once more.  
"Thanks. Not just the drive home, also the thing with Lewis. And…"  
Minho hesitated.  
"And?"  
"The concert. It was really good, I didn't just say so."  
Christopher stopped momentarily. The nervous playing with his lip piercing began again.  
"I'm glad.", he eventually said and looked back to the front.  
"But I still have one question."  
"Which is?"  
"What's Meth?"  
.…  
"You should go. Caroline's been probably _long waiting_ for you."  
Minho didn't miss the sarcasm. Just as he didn't miss the nicely packaged kicking-out.  
"I could just ask someone else."  
"Then do that."  
"But I want _you_ to tell me."  
"What difference would that make?"  
Not one he could explain. Minho stayed quiet.  
"I have to go, I told the others I'm just gonna get some cigarettes."  
"If you're gone for over 30 minutes just to get those, then the one minute it'll take to tell me what Meth is won't matter."  
Christopher rolled his eyes.  
"You're pretty persistent."  
...  
"Listen, I don't have to tell you what Meth is because you're never gonna have anything to do with it."  
"That's not an answer to my question."  
"You won't get another one."  
Minho sighed annoyed and once again this little grin appeared on Christophers face. Finally he turned to look at Minho again.  
"You should really go now."  
And this time he really got out, without another word and Christopher made a u-turn on the street while Minho stood in front of the dark house and looked after him.

Half an hour later he rang the bell at Carolines house, dressed up and with a wide, but fake smile on his lips. Carolines house wasn't far from his. Loud music came from the inside and Minho was sure that the neighbors were not the biggest fans of this party. Danielle, one of Carolines cheerleader friends, opened the door, a beer bottle in her hand.  
"Minho! Come on in, Caroline was waiting for you!"  
He entered the spookily decorated house and looked for familiar faces. And while he searched the rooms, seeing the laughing people in their costumes, he felt out of place for the second time this evening. Whether it was because he was in a bad mood, he didn't know. Someone gave him a red solo cup with beer in it, which he didn't drink.  
If he was being honest with himself, the best part this whole night had been the car ride. Silent. And somehow, he felt comfortable, as if Christopher understood him. Which of course, was complete nonsense, he didn't even understand himself. Of course, Gimpo wasn't paradise for him either, but here… since he's arrived here, he's been thinking too much. About how he didn't feel at home anywhere. That apparently, there was no one he could just be himself with. Everyone had conceptions and expectations. But what expectation had Minho himself? He didn't know.  
He only knew that, strangely, Christopher was someone who didn't expect anything from him, who didn't want to force him into any shape or form.  
Minho almost laughed. It was sad - the only person, he felt comfortable with, was basically a stranger and apparently Minho only liked him, because he didn't care about him. Were those the kind of people you should be with? Who didn't care about you? He somehow remembered the principles of happiness in a different way.  
  
"Minho! Where were you, we've been waiting over an hour for you."  
Minho cleared his throat as he recognized Caroline who had dressed up as…something - a sexy vampire maybe? - and was now looking at him with a worried expression.   
"Don't laugh, but I fell asleep and just woke up half an hour ago. I just wanted to take a short nap, but then…"  
He didn't finish and Caroline reached for the alien antennas, that were the attached to the headband he wore, and flicked one. It bounced back and forth and some glitter fell down onto Minhos hair.  
"It's okay. You look good."  
Caroline grinned at him and Minho smiled back, unsure. More than ever he wanted to be back in the car with the faux leather seats. Why couldn't have Christopher get lost, until they'd arrive in the desert. And then kept driving, in silence with the quiet music. Not having to worry about anything, not talking…just driving…with no destination.

"Come on, I'll show you the house. Since you've never been here before."  
Without asking, Caroline grabbed Minhos hand and pulled him along. Showed him the living area, the garden. It was a big house and there were many people. He waved at Ashton and Matt and looked around. Expensive furniture. For the first time Minho noticed that Carolines parents seemed to have more than enough money. This wasn't a house, this was a mansion. Minho followed Caroline silently, greeted people he knew and let Caroline introduce him to people he didn't know yet. Mainly girls from his grade or seniors. The girls looked him up and down shortly, before talking about a cheerleading performance or a past party. Hugs, and then they kept walking. Minhos hand still in Carolines, because he thought it would have been rude to pull away. She'd let go at one point.

Eventually, they found themselves in front of the stairs leading up to the first floor.  
There were barely guest here, the main hotspots being the terrace, the kitchen or living room. Upstairs, everything seemed quiet.   
"Do you like it? Come on, I'll show you my room."  
Minho stopped, even though Caroline had stepped on the stairs already. She noticed him hesitating and turned around.  
"Uhm...is there a party upstairs, too?", Minho asked. He really wasn't in the mood, being alone with Caroline again. He wanted to drink something and then go back home as soon as possible.  
"Maybe? A private party, just for you…"  
Minho swallowed, looked at Carolines face. Her dark eyes were looking for his. She stepped off the stairs again and stood close to him. Way too close. Minho broke eye contact and instead looked over her shoulder. He cleared his throat and took a step back.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Sure.", Minho replied with a dry mouth.  
"Then let's go upstairs."  
She closed the distance between them again and Minho felt terribly constrained. This was _definetely_ too close. And he was sick of people not respecting his personal space. Also of the alcoholic scent that came from Caroline. He put his hands in his pockets as Caroline wanted to interlock their fingers again.  
"I...everyone else is down here too. I haven't seen Toby yet, do you know where he is?"  
"Why are you thinking about Toby?"  
Caroline raised her eyebrows. Couldn't she or didn't she _want_ to understand? His hands being unavailable, Caroline put one hand on his chest and the other on this jaw, lightly forcing him to look at her. Minho furrowed his brows. Even if this was meant to be romantic, it was way too much. And he didn't even want Caroline to be romantic, he just wanted to be left alone!  
"Because...Toby likes you, did you know?", he tried to escape.  
"Oh, that's the reason? Well I'm gonna tell you something: I like _you_. I don't care what Toby wants. And now come on, I still need to greet some people later."  
Caroline grabbed the hem of his shirt but Minho stayed put. This was enough. He didn't owe _anyone anything_ , just because Caroline helped him out on his first day of school.  
"Caroline, let go. I'm not interested.", he said.  
"Are you kidding me? Why not? Listen Minho, I told my parents about you. You can't ruin this for me."  
Carolines expression darkened.  
"Are you drunk?!"  
"What does it matter?!"  
"Let go, Caroline, you're hurting me. I'm going back to the others. Come back, when you're sober."  
Minho detached Carolines hand from his arm, that had grabbed him just where Lewis had about an hour ago.   
He turned around to return to the other guests.  
"Do you like someone else or what?"  
"God, Caroline, no! I just want to be left alone!"  
"I'll kill that bitch, do you hear me? Whoever it is, I'll kill her!", Caroline screeched.  
"Caroline, what is wrong with you?!"  
"Go! Go to Toby and your other stupid friends, you care so much about. I'm done."  
Minho closed his eyes, took a breath and then created as much distance as possible between him and this very drunk and very scary version of Caroline.   
He wanted to leave.

Suddenly, the music was too loud, the people to many, the laughter too high pitched.

"Oi, Minho. Where were you? Have you seen Caroline?"  
Ashton put his arm around Minhos shoulder, the other around his girlfriend Eleanor, who looked at Minho and just rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. Minho smiled half heartedly.  
"No, I think I lost her somewhere. Listen, I think I'm gonna go."  
"What? But you've only been here for half an hour. Jenna wanted to introduce you to Liz, she's in the kitchen."  
Oh no, not again. Minho really didn't need anyone flirting with him today anymore.  
"I really want to go home. I think I'm getting sick, I don't feel so good…"  
Ashton nodded, grinning.   
"Bit too much of Carolines punch, right? Don't worry, happened to all of us. Except for me, of course."   
Minho escaped Ashtons arm and took off his headband, tiredly combing through his hear with his fingers. When did everything escalate like this?  
"Sure. Tell Caroline I went home, okay?"  
Ashton wanted to say something, but Eleanor stopped him and looked at Minho, worried.   
"You really are a bit pale. I'll tell her, just go home and lie down. Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow."  
"Thanks.", Minho replied quietly, turned around and fled from the party.

Monday he was scared of going to school. He tried to avoid Caroline, which only worked until lunch. He didn't want to tell the others about Carolines failed attempt at getting closer, because he thought it wasn't anyones business but he also wasn't planning on acting like nothing happened.  
He didn't eat, only got himself an ice tea bottle and sat outside at the usual table, to wait for the others who were still busy getting their food. Nervously, he turned the bottle in his hands. Caroline had been trying to get to him the whole day, but he avoided her. He was good at avoiding.

As he scanned his surroundings, the far parking lot and football field blurring in the heat, he suddenly noticed Christopher, sitting at the same table he sat at on Minhos first day. Alone, as usual. Headphones around his neck, not on his hears he drew something on the note book in front of him. Or wrote. Minho couldn't make it out from where he was sitting. Minho wished he would look up, so he could greet him. Their relationship had to have improved after Friday, right?  
But what if he really just didn't want to feel bad when he drove him home? If in reality, he really thought Minho was just a spoiled little rich kid who wasn't worth his time?  
Should he go over there? Get up, take five steps towards his table and sit with him for a bit? Or longer?  
But right in this moment, the others came back from getting their food, loud and noisy, and both Minho and Christopher looked up. And as Minho turned around again, their eyes met. Minho smiled, hesitant and raised a hand, slowly. If he wanted, Christopher could look away and act as if he didn't notice the movement. He seemed to think for a moment. But then he really nodded in Minhos direction, showed that meanwhile, they were more than just two students in the same music class and turned back to his note book.  
Just this small gesture soothed Minho in an unexplainable way. His uncertainty towards Christopher seemed to fade. He kept smiling at him, even though Christopher had already stopped paying attention to him.  
  
"Did you just wave at _Christopher Bang_?", Toby asked in disbelief and pulled Minho from his thoughts. He nodded, distracted.  
"What's your business with that freak?", Toby continued to ask. He had put his tray next to Caroline who sat down in front of Minho. She now also looked at Christopher, who didn't seem to notice anything going on around him.  
"We're working together in music class? And we're both in the book club." The longer he thought about it, the more he was sure that this whole freak-thing with Christopher was one big misunderstanding. Sure, he was different from the others but it wasn't a bad different. Alright, except for the joint. And the alcohol. And Ian. But that's something you could easily ignore. He really wasn't especially mean or rude. So there simply was no reason for the others to treat him like this. If they would get to know him, they'd understand. There was no harm in telling Toby and posse nice things about Christopher, right? He could at least try.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest with you guys, I simply didn't feel like uploading, and I'm very sorry T.T  
> But I'm also incredibly thankful for all the love you showed this ff and I really, really appreciate it  
> Please enjoy

"Yeah, and? Jenna and Toby are also in the same class as that punk. Still, they don't have any business with him.", Caroline said and looked over to Christopher, disgust written on her face.  
Minho ignored her and just opened his ice tea bottle, taking a sip. Once more, he glanced at Christopher, who was ignoring everything around him, as always.  
"I think he's nice.", he confessed.  
"Nice? How do you wanna know if the freak is nice? He never talks."  
Toby, for instance, didn't seem to want to change his mind about Christopher.   
"Of course he talks. And he makes music."  
"Wow, he makes music, great, maybe he can start playing on the streets because that's where he's gonna end up."  
Caroline said an Toby nodded, agreeing. The others were busy eating or talking about last weeks Halloween parties.  
"I don't think so." Minho insisted. "Can I have one of your fries, Felix?"   
Felix nodded and Minho stole a fry from Felix' plate.  
"Are you feeling better? You looked pretty pale last Friday.", he then asked.  
Minho had run into Felix, after leaving the house on Friday and used the excuse of feeling sick to get away as fast as possible.   
Caroline stopped picking at her salat and seemed to be listening.  
"Everything's fine, I…don't know, I just didn't feel so good."  
Caroline cleared her throat, but Minho ignored her. Her attitude on Friday threw him off. It wasn't the first time someone liked him, he knew many people that used to have a crush on him, it was normal. But for someone to act so entitled to him. That wasn'tnormal. But here in Australia, everything seemed to be different. Ian, Lewis and now Caroline. Scary, how the schools It-girl was in the same category as sketchy people like Christophers acquaintances.  
  
Lunch was soon over and everybody started leaving for their next classes, but before Minho could get up, Caroline held him back.  
"Could you wait for a minute?"  
Minho wanted to say no. Toby glared at him. But at the same time he knew that he couldn't just ignore Caroline until the end of time. So he sat back down and looked after the others, who were disappearing in the cold school building.  
"Listen, because of Friday…"  
Caroline looked down apologetically. Minho bit the inside of his cheek.  
"I'm sorry. I had…too much to drink, probably."  
"Probably." Minho replied coldly and once again looked over at Christopher. Did he not hear the bell ring? Did he even have classes after lunch on Mondays or did he have a free period? Whatever it was, he was still sitting at his table, not moving an inch. Only his hand moving over the note book.

"It's just. I really like you, Minho."  
He blinked and looked back at Caroline. She was looking at him now. Minho scanned her straight nose, her sharp jawline and her round eyes. Her black hair reached until her midriff and when she wore it in a ponytail, it gave her a fierce and mature look. Her long legs seemed to have been made for the uniform skirt and she wore an expensive, silver watch, much like Minhos.  
Caroline was the teenage dream come true, the future Prom-Queen and every in-laws greatest achievement. The schools It-Girl. Who had everything, whose mother was president of the neighborhood committee and whose father had a big company, making their family richer by the second.  
Minho understood Toby. Really. But when he looked at Caroline, he didn't feel anything. He saw a pretty picture, an illusion of the perfect relationship, but that's all. Caroline seemed to be everything that was currently getting to much for Minho. The perfect world, with a facade that seemed to crumble ever since his parents got divorced, the expectations of his mother, his teachers, his fellow students. And whoever didn't fit the picture, would get cut out.   
Like Christopher.

Some day, Caroline would cut him out of her world, too, if he wasn't quicker. It's not like he wasn't brave enough to stand up to everyone around him, it was simply easier to just be like everyone else. But he defientely wouldn't let Caroline change him into something he'd absolutely hate. If it wasn't too late already.

If Christopher ever had to make a decision like that? At least he would have been braver than Minho.  
"Could you at least look at me when I'm talking to you? What's so interesting back there?" Minho didn't even realize getting lost in thoughts and staring at Christopher. Again, he didn't wear the uniform shirt. Caroline turned around, followed Minhos gaze and the only one she could find, was Christopher. She turned back to Minho in disbelief. He could basically see the thoughts forming in her head.  
"Wait, it's not because - because of _this_ guy?!", she asked and seemingly wanted to laugh.  
"It's not because of anyone. I just don't think we fit eachother.", Minho replied.  
"Oh, and why?"  
"Because you don't know me."  
Funny. Christopher had told him the same thing when he had asked him why he was being so cold towards him.  
He smiled, thinking about it.  
"I don't know you?"  
"Since when am I here? Three weeks? You don't get to know a person in three weeks."  
"Then let me get to know you."  
"This takes time, Caroline. That thing on Friday, that was…off putting. That seems to be one side of you I can't accept."  
"I told you I was drunk."  
"And that makes it okay?"  
"I really don't know what you're making a scene for, but okay. It was uncalled of and it won't happen again. Will you go the movies with me if I promise you this?"  
"I'm not some price you can win, Caroline."  
"And I don't like losing. See you tomorrow."  
With that, Caroline got up and disappeared through the open glass doors into the building. Minho looked after her, at a loss for words. More than ever he had the feeling of being a goal for Caroline to achieve. A scary thought.

Minho let his head fall to the cool surface of the table and stared at the concrete beneath his feet. Decided to do something, he had never done before. He would skip class.  
He would just stay here, go to PE later and then orchestra, as if nothing had happened.  
Weirdly, there was no tingling in his stomach, the kind he always got when he was doing something, he knew he's not supposed to do. Which was rare. There was only the emptiness he had felt, ever since arriving in Sydney, that was slowly filling him up. He actually wasn't sure if the emptiness hadn't already been there in Gimpo. But he simply didn't have the time to think. Time, to think about the emptiness. A nasty feeling.

"Are you okay?"  
Minho raised his head as he heard an amused voice next to him, talking in Korean. There was Christopher, arms crossed in front of his chest and looked down at him with his typical half smile. He didn't seem to think that Minho could have serious problems. And why would he.  
"Sure.", he replied also in Korean, intending to keep the conversation in his mother tongue.  
Minho combed through his hair with his hands before putting them on the table in front of him.  
"Did the prom-queen dump you?"  
Minho groaned.  
"Are you aware that your cynical attitude can be really annoying?"  
"Oh, you've seen nothing yet. But you should go to class."  
Minho rolled his eyes and then looked up at the bright blue sky.  
"No."  
"No?", Christopher asked and actually sounded surprised.   
"No. I don't want to. I'm skipping class."  
"Oh, really?"  
He nodded.  
"You never skipped class before, did you?"  
"How do you wanna know that?"  
Christopher looked at him, thoughtfully. His black shirt stood in strong contrast to the white building behind him.   
"You don't skip class. You're not the type. And you wouldn't sit in the middle of the campus where everyone can see you, if you knew what you're doing."  
Minho made a face while still having to agree with Christopher. He hadn't thought about that.  
"Oh, because you're such a pro."  
"Exactly."  
Christopher fully smiled at him, his dimples showing.  
"Then why are you here?"  
"I have a free period."

It was annoying, how Christopher always seemed to be the one to have the last word.  
He just couldn't win against him because every argument just seemed to bounce off of him. He seemed to know twice as much as Minho, about everything, and that was more than irritating.  
He changed the subject.  
"Did you write something?"  
He nodded at the note book that was still lying on the table, along with Christophers other stuff. He also looked back.   
"Yeah. Why?"  
Minho shrugged.  
"Will you show me?"  
"Why?"  
"Why not?"  
"Maybe it's personal. If I wanted everyone to see, I'd write it on the school walls."  
"I'm not everyone."  
"True. You're pretty…peculiar."  
Again, he sounded like he was making fun of him. No one had ever called Minho 'peculiar' and he couldn't tell if Christopher meant it in a good or bad way.  
"Are you gonna show me or not?"  
Christopher sighed defeated, then turned around and walked to the other table. He turned back towards Minho.  
"What are you waiting for?"  
It was like a constant game of tug of war. Christopher wouldn't give in. If Minho wanted something, he had to come to him. Would it always be like this? Would he have to work on an assignment with Christopher, just so he'd put up with him?  
But still Minho got up, curious, left his half empty bottle and went over to the table.

Again, Christophers pretty handwriting. Paragraphs all over the sheet, some scribbled out, some decorated with question marks. Some of the words were written in Korean and Minho went over the lines over and over again.

_Cause later when I become addicted to life_   
_Even though the medicine I take when I'm sick has no effect_   
_It still comforts me in another way and makes me want to fly_   
_Going up towards the sun, yeah_   
_It’s all up in my mind_   
_Please deceive me this time_

Christopher closed the note book and Minho jumped a bit. He stood up straight and tried to look as neutral as possible. Then he watched the blond rapper pack up the rest of his stuff.  
"What are you doing?", he asked, surprised. He thought he just build up something like a conversation with Christopher. He couldn't just leave like that.  
"Leaving?"  
Obviously.  
"To where?"  
"You're pretty nosy."  
Minho furrowed his eyebrows. Christopher was slowly putting a distance between them and Minho looked after him like a little kid. He had already gone a few steps, when Minho decided to swallow the disappointment and try again.  
"Where do you go when you skip class?"

Pathetic. Didn't he understand, that all Minho wanted was some mutual interest in a conversation? Minho felt awkward, he wasn't someone who begged. On the other side, he had no idea how else to get to Christopher.  
He had also no idea why he did it.  
But Christopher stopped and turned around.  
"Where I also spend my free periods."  
"And where's that?"   
This time it was Christopher who looked up in the sky, annoyed.  
"If you really have to know: my car."  
The "Can I come with you?" went quicker over his lips than he intended and Minho bit his tongue.  
"Why?"  
"Where else should I go?"  
"You may be surprised but I honestly don't care. You should've thought about that earlier."

The message was clear.  
"But I didn't.", Minho said quietly and looked down at his white sneakers.  
"Happens to you often, doesn't it? That you don't think, I mean."  
"Not really."  
But Christopher was right. He never thought things trough, when it came to this unusual boy.  
He didn't think about the consequences when he chose to work with Christopher in the auditorium and also when he went to the Triple X concert. Even though he usually was a rather rational person.  
Minho heard Christopher sigh. The way you sigh when you decide to take in a stray dog, even though you know it's gonna be nothing but work.  
Minho didn't like feeling like a stray.  
"Sure. Whatever. You're not gonna get off my back, anyway."  
This didn't sound especially happy, but Minho still hurried to grab his bag and went after him. He would've laughed at anyone else, but he couldn't explain to himself, why he kept ignoring Christopher cold attitude towards him. Why he ran after him. That somehow seemed to be a part of Christopher you just had to accept.

He followed Christopher trough the empty hallway out onto the parking lot. He didn't say a word and so Minho did the same. It probably sounded weird, but he liked staying quiet in Christophers presence. Just being quiet, without someone immediately asking if you're alright, if something was wrong.  
Silence with Christopher was better than talking with Caroline.


	11. Chapter 11

Still not saying a word, Christopher threw his bag on the backseat and then unlocked the car. He found a note under the wipers, shortly looked at it and then threw it away.  
"What was that?", Minho asked, breaking the silence.  
"A message from my lovely fellow students. Are you just gonna stand there?"  
Minho sighed quietly, before he opened the door and sat down. The car was parked in the shade, so it was nice to just sit here and look up in the sky. He closed his eyes and started liking the idea of just doing nothing for the next hour.  
Christopher turned on the radio and again, music that was unknown to Minho, started playing. Something that sounded like a mixture of Rock and Hip Hop and Minho definetely could get used to. Then the clicking of a lighter and cigarette smoke spreading out. Not a joint this time. At least.  
At one point, the music had stopped and Minho didn't even realize how the time went by. He opened his eyes and noticed the sun having wandered a bit.  
"Had a good sleep?", Christopher asked amused.  
"I wasn't sleeping."  
"Okay then…"  
It got quiet again.  
"When are you gonna play a show again?", he then asked.  
"Why? In the mood for the 'Soda Factory'?"  
"No. In the mood for your music."  
He turned his head towards Christopher and was satisfied with seeing the surprise on his face. Instead of replying, Christopher simply leaned back, apparently looking for something on his backseat. He came back to the front with a cassette in his hand, switching it with the one in the radio.  
Minho recognized the melody. He also recognized Christophers voice. Minho smiled shortly, then closed his eyes again and enjoyed the music.  
"I have history class in 10 minutes."

Again, a nicely packaged kicking-out.  
"Oh, well I also have PE. Uhm…thanks. For the place to skip class at."  
Christopher half-smiled. Minho wondered whether he could actually smile a real smile.  
"It's fine. You can keep the cassette.", he then said, neutral as always.  
"Really? Thanks!"  
He hastily took the cassette out and put it in his bag.  
"So…see you tomorrow in music class?"  
"Probably, yes."  
With that they exited the car, Minho smiled at him, Christopher simply raised his eyebrows, and their ways parted.  
That was the weirdest 'hanging out' Minho ever had with someone. But Christopher also was the weirdest guy he knew.  
And weird didn't necessarily mean bad, right?

The next day seemed to be like every other day, except that him skipping class apparently didn't go unnoticed. Coach Smith, his PE teacher, gave him a cold look before handing him a detention notice for next week. If this were to happen again, they'd have to contact his parents.  
But Minho wasn't really mad about having to sit in school until the evening. The two hours spend with Christopher have been surprisingly worth it.  
Just like the look his mother had given him when she had entered his room late in the evening, where he was listening to the music of Triple X.  
"What is that?", she had asked, raising her carefully groomed eyebrows.  
"The band of a fellow student. They're good right?"  
Ms. Lee had given him a more than surprised look before listening to Christophers voice for a moment.  
"Well, it's a bit…aggressive, don't you think? Since when do you like this Hip Hop music?"  
Minho shrugged.  
"The genre doesn't matter, as long as the music is good."  
"Oh really? Well, if you say so…did you practice your scores? The Christmas party is in five weeks, you're working on it, right?"  
Minho nodded and sighed, as soon as his mother left the room. Other parents maybe would've asked about a student who already records his own cassettes, but Ms. Lee obviously didn't.  
Disappointed by the thought of his mothers reaction, Minho distractedly walked behind Jenna and Toby, on their way to music class. Caroline had kept staring at him during lunch, but Minho pretended he was busy talking to Ashton and Matt. Christopher hadn't been there.Whether he sat in his car again, listening to music?

As he sat down next to him this time, Christopher actually managed to say "Hi". If that wasn't a big step since last time. Minho noticed how today, he wore a silver ring in his bottom lip instead of a black one.  
"Something wrong?", he asked while the teacher went around, handing out the assignments. He must've noticed him staring.  
"No, no. But…cool piercing."  
" _You_ like piercings?"  
Good question. Did Minho like piercings? Not really. His parents said everything aside from simple earlobe piercings was trashy.  
'Only cows wear rings in their noses, and only hooligans put metal in their face'.  
"Not all of them. But I like this one."  
Christopher raised his eyebrows. He pushed against the ring with his tongue.  
"This one?"  
The gesture seemed obscene somehow and Minho looked away.  
"Yes, that one. Should we go?"  
He could hear giggling from behind him, as he basically jumped up from his seat and walked towards the door. Christopher followed him. On their way to the auditorium, they were silent again.

"My girlfriend doesn't like it."  
"What?", Minho asked, distracted.  
"My piercing. Ally doesn't like it."  
Minho furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. He didn't know exactly what it was, but somehow he didn't seem to like this Ally. But that happened often. Minho had a tendency of disliking people before getting to know them.  
Not knowing what to answer, he simply shrugged.  
"If you like the piercing, why don't you get one?"  
"Excuse me?"  
Minho looked at Christopher, dumbfounded.  
Just because he thought the unusual hairstyle, tattoos and piercings somehow looked…pretty on Christopher, that didn't mean it was the same for him.  
"Why not?"  
"Well...because…I can't just…my mother would freak out!"  
He wasn't able to form a coherent sentence because he was taken aback by the fact that Christopher just asked him a question. He showed actual interest for the very first time. In him.  
"Just because of your mother?"  
They had arrived in the auditorium a while ago and Christopher had begun collecting the microphone stands, that were still standing on the stage from the Halloween party.  
"No. Well, actually, yes. I never thought about it. And in my face…where everyone can see? In Korea, they would've kicked me out, anyway."  
"How about in the tongue? Ally has one, too, she got it about two years ago."  
Minho didn't answer. Not, because he didn't like the idea, but because he was now imagining how a piercing would look on him. Theoretically, of course.  
"Think about it. I'm sure Ian would do it for free."  
Christopher was now collecting various cables lying on the floor, gesturing Minho to do the same.  
"Ian? Why Ian?"  
"He's a piercer. And tattoo artist. Has a small shop at the 45th. Got my tattoos from him, and my piercings. He's good."

Doubting, Minho watched Christophers back. Ian? The rough, drinking, smoking Ian with the stupid smile and the worn down clothes? Should Caroline have been right in that point?  
"Why did you get all those?"  
"Why not?"  
Actually, he was right. Why not?  
"Why did you skip class?"  
Minho answered without thinking much about it.  
"I was in the mood. Was my first time anyway."  
Grinning, Christopher turned to look at him.  
"Oh? So you had your first time with me? Interesting."  
Minho couldn't stop himself from blushing. He avoided looking at Christopher who was obviously having fun teasing him. Upon seeing Minhos face, he laughed.  
"I'm sorry, I take it back."  
His laugh was nice. It sounded carefree and genuinely happy.  
Minho was also happy. Not because of the stupid joke, but because Christopher had actually made one.  
But just as fast as the laugh came, it was gone.  
"You were in the mood for skipping class, I was in the mood for tattoos."  
Minho wasn't really sure if you could compare these two things.  
"And what did your parents have to say about that?"  
  
Christopher didn't say anything for quiet a while, still collecting the cables and Minho sighed. He messed up again.  
"You can put those cables in that box there. And can you unplug those?"  
Minho walked over to the box and putting the cables down, before unplugging two others and also collecting them. Maybe this was a sign that Christopher had not completely rebuild his wall. He could've just unplugged the cables himself. He definetely would have, a week ago.  
They were silent for the rest of the period, but it was a nice silence. And Minho started wondering why he didn't know more people he could just be quiet with.

This didn't last for long, though. Since Minho was almost sure they had something like a friendly relationship now, he wanted to take it to another level. Somehow.  
"Should we go to book club together?", he asked while getting his bag from the music room.  
Christopher looked at him, a bit irritated and shook his head.  
A bit hurt by the rejection, Minhos expression faltered.  
"And why not?"  
Christopher seemed to wonder for second, if Minho was worth answering.  
"I'm not going."  
Now Minho was the irritated one.  
"You're skipping? Why?"  
Whether he sat in his car and wrote songs or in the book club, didn't matter, right?  
"Why, why, why?", Christopher mocked him, smiling, and Minho bit the inside of his cheek before turning away. Was it his fault he always had to ask five times? If Christopher would just explain things himself, he could just spare himself the 'why?'.  
But then, Minho thought, that Christopher simply never said anything about what he was doing, because he thought it wasn't any of Minhos business. And that Minho was getting on his nerves with his questions. He'd be annoyed too, if Christopher would constantly run after him like that.  
Minho played with the zipper on his bag and avoided looking in Christophers direction.  
"I have plans.", he eventually answered just as Minho wanted to leave.  
"Have fun.", was the only thing that left his mouth.  
Minho watched Jenna and Toby leave the room. He had friends himself, who actually talked to him, he didn't need a Christopher who always made fun of him.  
"Are you mad now?"  
He still sounded so shamelessly amused and Minho turned around, angry. He could see in Christophers grinning face that he didn't mean it in a bad way. Actually, he wasn't even sure anymore, if he was smiling or grinning. Minho studied his face for a second, without finding a satisfying answer. Only, that he actually looked…well, pretty, when he was smiling. Or grinning. Whatever. He even started to get used to the white-blonde curls. They suited him.

"Oh, so no answer? That's new."  
"I get it. It's none of my business. So I just won't ask anymore, simple as that.", Minho then said.  
If Christopher still wanted to be 'acquaintances', he sure could be the one to take a step for once. That's how friendships work, right? A giving and taking.  
But just as he finished that thought, he remembered that Christopher actually already had taken steps towards him. Who drove him home from the 'Soda Factory'? Who saved him from Lewis? Who allowed him to stay in his car while skipping class?  
God, what was the matter with him? He wasn't supposed to care about another person this much. Something was wrong here.  
Minho realized that he was late for class again. Christopher had watched him attentively and seemed to notice, that he was thinking about something.  
"We'll see."  
Minho closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
"We'll see what?"  
"If you actually manage to not ask questions for once. Considering that you just did it again."  
"How about you try to figure out why."  
"Because of your nosiness?"  
"Of course. Sure. God, why do I even bother?"  
Minho grabbed his bag angrily and finally made his way towards the door. But just as stepped into the hallway, he thought he'd heard a "I'm asking myself that, too." coming from inside.  
He decided not to answer.


	12. Chapter 12

Annoyed, Minho stood in front of the almost empty fridge.  
It was 5pm, he just got back from dance club and he was in a bad mood. He couldn't really tell the reason for it, as it seemed to be multiple factors. His father hasn't called for a week, Caroline just wouldn't leave him alone, which then pissed off Toby. He seemed to have pulled a muscle during practice and now there was no food in the house. On top of that, Christopher hadn't been at school today. His car hadn't been on the parking lot. It wasn't like that was the reason for Minhos bad mood. Whether Christopher was there, or not had no influence on his mood. But he couldn't stop thinking about the conversation they had in the music room. Were they _fighting_ now?

"Damn!", Minho said loudly into the empty kitchen. He was doing it again. Thinking about him. He decided that only food would help him now and slipped into his sneakers. He didn't want to go grocery shopping, he maybe seemed to get used to Ian, but he didn't want to overdo it. But he remembered passing by a McDonalds last time he took the bus downtown. His mother would have a breakdown over this greasy stuff, but Minho was in the mood for calories. It wasn't his fault that there was never anything to eat in this house! He changed out of his uniform into shirt and a pair of shorts to survive the temperatures outside and then made his way to the bus station.

Arriving at the McDonalds - or 'Maccas', as it said on the sign - Minho hurried to get inside the chilly facility. The familiar smell of fries and burgers greeted him, as did the messy chatter of the customers inside. He thought about taking the food home, but if his mother was to find the rest in the trash, he'd be in trouble. So he'd eat here.  
He stood in the queue, deciding what to eat, while searching his pockets. He carelessly only had grabbed a few dollars, before leaving the house. He kept searching but only found a few hundred won. Obviously useless in Australia. He wondered how long these have been in there.

"May I take your order?"

No. Way.  
Minhos heart skipped a beat the second he raised his head and looked into the face of Christopher Bang, who was drawing circles onto the counter with his fingers.  
"Christopher?"  
So he really skipped school today. Though, he didn't look really healthy either. He noticed him stopping the finger motions for a second, just to continue them twice as fast. He looked over his shoulder and cleared his throat. He started pushing against the lip piercing with his tongue again - nervous, this time. Something was off.  
"Hey Mi-Minho."  
Nothing else. This again.  
Christopher looked at him, looked away, then he focused really hard on the register in front of him. He swallowed.  
"Uhm...I'd like to have the special menu…are you okay?"  
Again, Christopher cleared his throat and started typing Minhos order into the screen.  
"Sure. Everything's fine. Just a second."  
Unsure, Minho looked after him. He was acting weird. Weirder than usual.  
Meanwhile, Christopher packed his burger and fries onto the red tray.  
He almost knocked the cup over, when adding it to the tray. But then he seemed to take a breath, closed his eyes for a moment an then gave him his change back, his hand still shaking a bit.  
"Enjoy.", he murmured.  
Minho took the tray and waited, for him to show any sign of recognizing him as more, than a normal customer, but he already started paying attention to the person behind him.  
"May I take your order?"

Utterly confused, Minho sat down on one of the red benches in the back of the restaurant and looked at the burger in front of him.  
Christopher has been strange since the beginning, but this was different. Was he embarrassed that Minho had seen him here? He wasn't the type to get embarrassed about stuff like this. So why was he acting like that?  
Was he mad at him? If yes - why?  
But he didn't seem mad either. Just nervous. Nervous and…sick, somehow. He looked back to the register and watched Christopher nervously blinking, while taking orders, but not being able to properly focus. He looked disturbingly pale. The white-blond hair, which usually stood in a nice contrast to his tanned skin, now made him look terribly unhealthy.  
Maybe he really was sick and just went to work because he needed the money.  
Minho realized how little he knew about Christopher. Did his parents have a lot of money? He did have a car. Where did he live? What were his plans after high school? Where did his father work?

Lost in thought, he played with his fries. His appetite was gone by now. Still, he took a bite out of the - now cold - burger.  
He stayed for over an hour. Whether he hung around here or at home, didn't make a difference. So he watched the customers come and go, listened to interesting conversations and after he looked for Christopher behind the register after a while, he was gone. And didn't come back.  
He might as well leave too then. He didn't know what he was hoping for, sitting all alone while Christopher was working, but he started to feel bored.  
Sighing, he put away his tray and exited the restaurant. He seemed to have gotten more used to the hot sun shining onto his face. He closed his eyes for a moment. One day he would get used to all of this. Get used to Christopher and his quirks.

He heard slow footsteps, almost drowned out by the noise of the traffic, coming from the other side of the parking lot. He opened his eyes again, and this time, he wasn't surprised to see Christopher coming from an ally next to the restaurant, dressed in an oversized hoodie. He seemed to always meet either him or Ian. Did he have a tracker or something in his pocket?

But Christopher didn't seem to notice him. His eyes fixed on the ground he simply walked past him, headphones on his ears and still so pale.  
"Christopher? Hey, Christopher! Hello?"  
He caught up to him and reached for his shoulder. Minho didn't even know what he actually wanted to say to him, but he looked like he needed help.  
Christophers reaction wasn't what he had expected, though. But when did Christopher ever act like you'd expect?  
He turned around suddenly und pushed Minhos hand away in the movement. He ripped the headphones off and gave him an aggressive look. The moment he noticed it wasn't a potential criminal, but just Minho, his face relaxed a bit. But he still looked annoyed.  
"You again!"  
What the hell was going on now?  
"Can you leave me alone, for once? You're _always_ running after me!"  
No smirking, no teasing tone in his voice.  
Minho stared at him, speechless.  
"Don't look at me like that, do I got something in my face or what?"  
"I.…"  
"What 'I'? If you don't have anything to say then why are you following me?"  
Okay, that was enough.  
"Listen, I just wanted to help! You looked sick. Also, I saw you by coincidence."  
"I'm not sick and I don't need your help!"  
A few people started looking at them as Christopher started waving is hands in the air.  
  
"I see.…", was the only thing Minho said and took a step back.  
Whatever he had done wrong, it seemed to be extreme. Christopher had pressed his pale lips into a thin line, sweat on his forehead. He was breathing heavily and still stared at Minho. _Angry._  
Minho felt his heart drop. Felt himself getting goosebumps and how he couldn't do anything but stare back. If anyone else had yelled at him like this, he would have simply ignored that person. He could care less, if there were some people who didn't like him.  
But not Christopher.  
What if the others were right? What if there was a reason no one liked him? This wasn't normal, it wasn't explainable. Deep within him, he somehow knew, that Christopher would never go off at someone like this. And it scared Minho. Scared him more than Ian ever did.  
A little part of him desperately waited for Christopher to start laughing, to say 'I'm kidding!' and then make fun of him, in a friendly way. He knew it wouldn't happen. This was serious. Christopher was really angry.  
As he kept being silent, Christopher turned around and continued his walk down the street, without looking back once.

"Is everything alright, Honey?"  
Ms. Lee put her leather bag next to the armchair her son was sitting in, with his eyes fixed on the tv, but not really watching.  
"Sure.…"  
"Then why do you look so sad?"  
"I'm just tired…"  
He was tired indeed, but that wasn't the main reason for his bad mood. He hadn't seen Christopher in school, neither today, nor yesterday. But he also hasn't been really looking for him, avoided the parking lot. So now there were two people he didn't want to encounter in school. With Caroline, it was uncomfortable, but possible. With Christopher, it simply hurt. Minho couldn't remember the last time he cared this much for an other human being. He knew that whatever was going on between them, was far from friendship, but still… he had the feeling that Christopher was the only person in Sydney who understood. Who understood, what he himself couldn't understand. Who has been there. Even though it was ridiculous to cling to someone like this. Apparently, he had been getting on his nerves one time too many. Was he a pushover? Probably. But all he did was try to understand Christopher. Now he realized, that it was probably just a desperate attempt of finding something. Something he didn't know. Something he was missing ever since he left Gimpo. Maybe even before that, he just hadn't noticed.  
Why he chose Christopher out of all people - who knew?  
But obviously, the interest was one sided. And Christopher didn't know what else to do after trying to politely turn down Minhos advances. Of course, he hadn't spend every single day of his past few weeks in Sydney with Christopher. He could probably count the times he saw him at school on one hand, to be exact. The times he talked to him. But still, since the beginning it had been…nice to know, that there was someone. Someone who was as different as he felt sometimes. Only that Christopher didn't hide it like Minho did.  
Someone who teased him, but drove him home, when he was alone at night. Who didn't expect for him to always make the right decisions. Who didn't expect him to always smile. It was a good feeling, knowing someone like that.  
And now.…?  
  
"Well, then try to sleep a lot during the weekend. And eat more. By the way, I have been invited to an important meeting in Adelaide over the weekend. I'll be back on Monday, you're gonna be fine on your own, right?"  
Minho had almost laughed. It was kind of funny, how little his own mother seemed to know him. It was alright. He could live with it.  
"No problem.", he answered.  
"Perfect. You're gonna study for your biology test next week, right? Remember you only had 85 percent on your last test, and you know that's not satisfying. You're keeping up well?"  
"Of course."  
"Of course. Very good. I'm gonna go to bed now, I have to be at the airport at 8am tomorrow morning. You should sleep, too."  
What if he wouldn't? What if he would just get up and leave? If he'd stay in bed tomorrow and fail the test next week? Go to Ians tattoo shop instead of school, and get something crazy done to his body? Yeah, what if…  
"Alright, Mom."  
What if...


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !PLEASE READ!  
> All I want is to put a little extra trigger warning right here: DRUG ABUSE/OVERDOSE  
> Also, if something like is ever gonna happen to you please do NOT act like Minho did.  
> Call an ambulance, or the police.

Friday night.  
Home alone.  
Minho had made himself comfortable on the terrace outside, with a book and an iced tea. He'd have to leave in half an hour, because he was meeting up with Jenna and the others to go see a movie.  
Again he hadn't seen Christopher and again, he avoided the places he would expect him at. Spend his lunch time inside and almost ran to the bus station after school.  
He had forbid himself to think about him and instead talked to the others, adapted to them and didn't waste another thought on the tattooed rapper. And it worked fine, as long as there was something he could distract himself with. Why was he even worrying about this idiot!?  
He turned the page, angrily, and almost ripped it. Annoyed, he closed the book and buried his face in his hands.  
This was ridiculous! He barely knew Christopher! What did he even know about him?  
He would kick is own ass, if he could.  
So he just got up, left the book and the glass outside on a table and put on another shirt. Grabbed his car and house keys and took a last glance in the mirror. He had gotten tan in the last few weeks. His mother had offered him some sort of bleaching creme she brought from Korea, but he refused. He liked it this way.  
On the other side, the blue polo shirt and the white jeans he was wearing were something his mother would've liked. For a moment, he thought about wearing the outfit he wore to the 'Soda Factory'. Maybe cut some holes in the jeans, with a pair of scissors. But of course, he didn't.  
  
The moment he found the movie theater, a vintage looking building downtown, he realized how close it was to the 'Soda Factory'. Not that it would make a difference.  
"Hey, Minho! We bought the tickets already, the others are getting popcorn!"  
Felix, Jenna and Matt stood in front of the entrance and were talking to each other, when Minho finally arrived. It took him forever to find a parking space, so he had wo walk about five minutes. They started talking about some tv series, the dance club and other boring stuff while waiting inside for Caroline, Toby and Eleanor to return with the snacks. Due to talking to Felix when they entered the hall, Minho didn't pay any attention to where he was sitting, so he suddenly found himself between his dance club captain and Caroline, who had Toby sitting next to her. Wonderful.

He spend the whole movie sitting as straight as a candle in his seat, since Caroline had already scooted closer to him during the ads and always seemed close to jumping onto his lap whenever a jump scare would occur on the screen. Uncomfortable, he wanted to turn to Felix, but said was knocked out cold and snoring on the other side of his seat. While Toby kept his hand on the arm rest, obviously hoping Caroline would take it in a moment of fear, Minho tried to extend the distance between them as much as he could. He would have loved to just get up and leave.

The moment the movie ended and the lights went back on, Minho basically jumped out of his seat and accidentally knocked over the popcorn package from his lap. Luckily, it had been empty.  
"Should we go to a diner? I'm really craving a milkshake right now!", Jenna proposed and looked at the others enthusiastically.  
Minho wanted to say no, but he also didn't want to be a killjoy. So he nodded, which made Caroline smile.

The next diner was two streets down, even closer to the 'Soda Factory' and Minho hoped he wouldn't meet anyone on the streets for once.  
"Right there is the bar you asked about on Halloween.", Felix said to him and nodded into the other direction. Minho acted like he was interested and craned his neck a bit.  
"Oh yeah, almost forgot about that one. Are we there yet?"  
"Right around this corner." Matt answered. "The movie was great, right?"  
Again, trapped in a mindless conversation.  
It turned out to be a long evening, during which Minho had to keep escaping Carolines attempts of flirting, before finally slamming ten Australian dollars on the table and standing up.  
"I have to go, I'm super tired. See you on Monday." He didn't even bother trying to make his excuse sound believable. As soon as stepped out onto the sidewalk, he took a deep breath. Hopefully, Caroline would soon find another person to obsess over.  
It had gotten chilly outside and the walk to his car had gotten even longer. But there were a lot of people on the streets, so he wasn't too worried. A bitter smile crept on his face when he remembered that it also has always been Ian, who he encountered on the street at night. Scary, somehow.

And if he would the visit the 'Soda Factory'? Not go in, just pass by and take a look at the people. See, whether there would be anyone he knew. Ian…Christopher. What was Christopher doing on a Friday night when he wasn't having a show?  
Conflicted, he stood at the corner 15th/16th and didn't even know himself, what kind of absurd thoughts he was having. So he finally met with normal people, watched a movie and went to a nice diner after a while and was actually on his way home - and now he was out and about to enter this stinking hellhouse again to watch some junkies do their dark dealings. Minho shook his head and turned back to the fully illuminated street behind him.

In retrospect, he often had asked himself, what would have happened, if he hadn't turned around once more, this evening. If we would've just went to his car and drove home. Maybe he would have never interacted with Christopher Bang ever again, would have spend his afternoons with his clique and would have gotten rid of all his memories about sketchy people. He would've never fallen this deep, never would've given up everything, just to lose it all.  
But he did. He turned around.  
And what he had overlooked the first time, was now catching his eye like it been lit up by a spotlight.  
In the ally between two run down houses sat a person, knees pulled to their chest and a hood pulled over their head. Completely alone. Not a soul in sight.  
He didn't know what made him come closer. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it was foolishness.  
But he changed directions once again and approached the person, who was, half hidden in the shadows of the buildings, sitting on the ground without moving an inch.

A few feet away, he stopped. What was he doing here?  
For whatever reason this person was sitting here, it was none of his business. He wouldn't be able to help, even if he wanted to.  
It was coincidence - _pure coincidence_ \- that in exactly this moment, the body fell to the side and revealed the face belonging to it. Like an invisible force had pushed him over, Christopher Bang fell to the ground, motionless, with his mouth slightly parted.  
First Minho had thought - hoped - maybe it wasn't him.  
His curly hair was covering half of his face but Minho didn't need to push his sleeves up and reveal the dragon tattoos to _know_ , that it was indeed Christopher.  
He held his breath. He had never seen an unconscious person in his life, especially someone this young - what the hell was he supposed to do?!  
Swallowing hard, he looked around. No one there who could have helped him.  
He took the last three steps until he stood infront of the body and kneeled down. His white jeans would get stained.  
He almost slapped himself for thinking about this.

"Christopher?"  
No reaction. Of course not.  
And suddenly, Minho had a terrible thought. What if…if he…. Panicking, Minho grabbed the tattooed wrist and pressed his thumb on the vein. A few seconds later, he sighed, relieved. The pulse was quick and irregular, but it was there. Why in gods name was Christopher lying on the street, unconscious and all alone? Where were his friends? Where was Ian, or this Ally?  
Carefully, he brushed his cheek. Cold and wet from sweat. Strange.  
He couldn't stop himself from once, only once, touching the piercing in his lip. He thought it would be cold, but it was warm, when he touched the metal. Christophers eyelids fluttered.  
"Christopher? Hey, Christopher, wake up! Open your eyes!"  
Christopher only groaned.  
Minho smelled almost no alcohol, so he couldn't be that drunk. So what else could it be?  
He remembered what the others had said. Should Christopher really have taken…drugs…? What if he had taken an overdose? He needed to call an ambulance! He needed a phone, somewhere-  
"Hnng.…  
"Christopher? Wake up, you hear me? Look at me, _now_!"  
Minho was shaking him roughly and Christophers head was flying from side to side. But he actually opened his eyes a little.  
"Christopher? Goddamnit what are you doing…", Minho whispered and pushed the blond strands out of his face.  
"I'm calling an ambulance, okay? They will help you at the hospital."  
It was quiet for a while, and Minho thought he had lost consciousness again. But then:  
"N-no…no ambulance…"  
Desperate, Minho looked down the street.  
Of course, every doctor would immediately knew what was wrong with him. But what was he supposed to do then? He couldn't just leave him here!  
Christopher had meanwhile started shaking, but at the same time, it seemed like he was trying to get up. Minho tried helping him by putting an arm on his back. Everything was better than him blacking out again. The warm body was heavy against his arm, so Minho added his other one to keep Christopher up.  
"..gonna...be...fi…"  
Minho only understood half of what he was mumbling. They had to get off the street. If a police car would pass by here, it would be over, also for him.  
But where should he take him? To the 'Soda Factory'? Would someone help them there?  
"Then get up!"  
He quickly helped him up, pulled his arm over his own shoulder and grabbed his waist while slowly standing up. Christopher was hanging onto him like a sack of potatoes.  
"I need you to help me, we need to get to my car!", Minho huffed and started walking down the street. Christopher was letting himself get dragged more, than he was walking by himself and after a few steps they had to stop, so Minho could readjust Christophers position.  
"Goddamnit, Christopher, pull yourself together! _Please!_ "

He felt tears prickle in his eyes. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, _this isn't happening_.  
He had no idea what to do with Christopher, and it was scaring him.  
This had to be a joke, right? Some sick, twisted joke. There was no way he _actually_ just found Christopher Bang randomly on the street and was now trying to help him, because he probably suffered from an overdose. Right?  
Right now, he feared more than anything, that Christopher would just fall down again and not wake up. Never again.  
And as if Christopher had read his mind, his body suddenly jerked forward and he took a few small steps himself.  
Minho let out his breath, and continued carrying Christopher towards the parking lot where his car was parked, desperately burying his fist in his shirt.  
People were passing them by, some pointed their fingers at them, some laughed, no one offered to help. It was horrifying, how little these people cared, even though everyone could clearly see that Christopher was more dead than alive right now.

When they finally arrived at his mothers BMW, Minhos shirt was stuck to his back. It was incredibly exhausting, having to drag Christopher all this way here.  
Hastily, Minho looked for the keys in his pockets with one hand, because there was no way he'd let go of Christopher. The moment he opened the door, the blond rapper basically let himself fall into the seat and after Minho closed the door again, he took a moment to lean against the car and looked up into the dark night sky. He brushed over his wet cheeks, before making his way around the BMW to get inside himself. More than anything, he wanted to wake up and realize, that it was only a nightmare.  
A weird, way too realistic nightmare, about something that usually only happened in movies and dramas.

His heart was beating like crazy when he started the engine and took a glance at Christopher, who was now hanging in the seat, with glassy eyes and his mouth still slightly parted. If he'd drive around a corner too sharp now, Christopher would probably fall into his lap.  
Should they go to a hospital? They would call the police…they definetely would…and then they'd call his mother, Christophers parents, maybe even the school. Minho didn't even know where he lived, didn't know Ians number. God, why didn't he know _anything_ about him?!  
  
"Okay. Then we're going to my place.", he said with a steady voice, more to himself, so he could convince himself of this absolute stupid idea. It was incredibly calming, sounding more confident than you actually were. With shaking hands he drove home and prayed they wouldn't encounter a patrol car.  
How could this have happened to Christopher? If he really did take drugs, shouldn't he know, how much he can handle? What if this was his first time? What would have happened to him, if Minho hadn't found him?  
To his own confusion, he felt tears streaming down his face and quickly wiped them away. Not that Christoper would notice. Whether he laughed, whether he cried or whether he would throw himself out of the driving car…

And then finally, as if nothing had happened, they stood in Minhos driveway. He took a shaky breath and turned off the engine.  
"We're here.", he said, even though he wasn't expecting an answer.  
"Cool…"  
"Christopher?!"  
"Hm.…"  
Quickly, Minho unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to Christopher, looked into his brown eyes that almost seemed black now. His pupils were huge.  
"Can you - should I - How - what should I do?"  
Christophers mouth twitched. Was he trying to smile?!  
"Inside…sleep…"  
"Sleep, okay! No problem!"  
Thankful for the instance that Christopher seemed to find his way back to reality and tell him what to do, Minho ripped the car door open and dragged him outside and to the front door. Before he could open it, Christopher freed himself from Minhos grip, turned around and vomited into the flower bed next to the porch. Minho jumped at the loud retching sound and only managed to grab Christopher in the last second, before he almost fell into his own spat out stomach content.

Together, they made their way up the stairs into Minhos room. This was definetely _not_ how Minho had imagined having someone stay over for the first time. But he had to keep his eyes on him tonight. So he sat him down on his bed, where Christopher almost immediately fell down and closed his eyes.  
A bit lost, Minho stood next to him and decided to at least take Christophers shoes off. Then he put his blanket over him, and as soon as he was sure that he was asleep, Minho allowed himself to let out a loud cry. It was simply too much.  
  
What the actual _fuck_ was he doing? Did he really just pick up a person he barely knew, probably full to the brink with drugs, dragged him all the way to his car and brought him to his home? What was he thinking?  
Nothing.  
Again, he thought nothing, when he decided to help Christopher. He only knew, that he _needed_ to help him.  
And now, he had no idea what to do with this almost dead person on his bed. What would he say tomorrow? Would he be angry? If he really had taken drugs, then what the fuck was he thinking? Smoking weed, drinking alcohol, whatever - but _this_? He could've killed himself!  
Exhausted, Minho sat on the other side of the bed and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. Looked at Christophers face. He looked so peaceful, sleeping like this.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for the lovely comments, these really make my day.   
> Thank you all for reading and enjoying this ff <3

It turned out to be a long night. Minho didn't want to fall asleep, scared something could happen to Christopher. But while he was awake, he kept asking himself what he would do, if something really were to happen. If Christopher would…die…then it would be his fault for taking him.   
Every once in a while, Minho leaned over him to make sure he was still breathing. His pulse had calmed down in these few hours. He was breathing slowly and deep and Minho softly traced his facial feautures without touching him. What was going on in the life of Christopher Bang, that made him go this far?  
The moon was slowly wandering across the night sky and Minho had his knees pulled to his chest, with his head lying on them, he looked outside through the window, his gaze shifting to the person next to him from time to time.

1am, 2am, 3am. At 3:30 his eyelids fell shut for the first time. Which he only noticed the moment he started swaying. He opened his eyes and went to find Christophers hand, panicking. He was still warm. His fingers moved a little and for one moment, Minho held his hand. He slipped into a lying position and turned to the side, to keep an eye on the boy next to him. Then he eventually fell asleep.

He had a weird dream, about Christopher, running into the diner next to the movie theater, drinking Minhos milkshake and then collapsing.  
Minho jerked awake and sat up immediately. He closed his eyes for a moment, blinded by sunlight. A second later, he looked to his right. Christopher was still there. And not only that. He was awake. The blond just sat there and seemingly had been watching him sleep.  
For a moment, they simply stared at each other.  
"Don't do that ever again, do you hear me? _Ever_!"  
His voice was hoarse from sleeping and crying. Maybe he should have asked him how he feels, but now that he was awake, it was so much easier to be mad at him.  
Christopher blinked at him while Minho buried his hands in his face, groaning. He didn't say anything, but suddenly, he felt a warm hand on his back, softly caressing him. As nice as it felt - was that going to be his answer?!  
Minho slowly looked up and then pushed Christophers hands off of him.  
"Do you even know how scared I was?! I thought you were dying! Are you crazy? What would you have done if I hadn't, _by chance_ , found you yesterday? Huh?"  
Worked up, Minho brushed trough his hair and looked away from Christopher and his sad half smile.  
Instead, he looked at his alarm clock on his nightstand. 12:30pm. He couldn't remember ever getting up this late.  
Christopher still sat next to him, his legs crossed, watching him.  
"Are you gonna say something? Anything? Or did that stuff take your speaking-ability?", he snarled, insecure because of Christophers silence.  
"I don't think so…", he replied, thoughtfully.  
"What?!"  
"That it took my speaking-ability. Nope, everything's fine."

Minho stared at his, still pale face, at a loss for words. Was he now joking about how he almost got himself killed yesterday and how he scared the shit out of Minho?  
"You are the biggest asshole I've ever met in my entire life.". He then said and quickly got up.  
The blond rapper looked after him, surprised, while he made his way into the adjoining bathroom and locked the door behind him.  
Exhausted, he leaned against the door and slowly slipped down. Not only did Christopher obviously not take any of his actions seriously - Minho had also felt this tingling in his stomach, which told him that something was very wrong here.  
A tingling he felt at the thought of how it felt, lying next to the sleeping Christopher, feeling his warmth next to him, hearing his breathing, holding his hand while looking out for him.  
He suppressed a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He couldn't look out for him. Even if Christopher had wanted that, Minho couldn't. This was too big to be carried by only one pair of shoulders. This… _relationship_ …he had with Christopher was already too much for him and they barely knew eachother. And still, he sat in Minhos bedroom. Hadn't just left after waking up, but stayed.  
That meant something.

"Minho?"  
He heard Christophers hesitant voice coming from the other side of the door. To his own surprise, he was crying again. It was like he felt more emotions these past hours, than he did all his life. Salty tears ran down his cheeks, dropping from his chin into his lap.  
"Hey, Minnie…"  
He bit his bottom lip, painfully, so he wouldn't make a sound. The only people who called him that without trying to tease him were his friends back in Korea.  
Thanks to a slight vibration coming from the door, he knew Christopher had leaned against it.  
"Can you open the door?"  
"No."  
Did he think it was funny, what he did yesterday? Then he should just go back to his friends who apparently found this normal. He should leave Minho alone, stop occupying his mind and stop letting himself get found by him, whenever he felt like shit. Minho didn't need that.

"What if I told you I had to take a piss?"  
"Then use the other bathroom. Out of my room, third door on the right."  
He waited for the sound of footsteps. Nothing.   
Minho got up and stood in front of the sink. He could see his face in the mirror, crying and pale.   
With dark circles and messy hair. So this is what Christopher did to him. Without even knowing.  
"Do you want me to draw you a map or something? What are you waiting for?", he asked, choked up, and rubbed his face angrily, wiping away the tears.  
"I don't have to take a piss, I just wanted to get you to open the door."  
Was he smiling? His voice sounded like he was smiling.  
"Attempt failed."  
What did he want from him?  
"I realised. Stop crying, Minnie. Nothing happened."  
His voice was soft and Minho would have loved to just slam the door open and kick him out himself.  
"Sure. Nothing. Everything's fine."  
Christopher sighed. Minho took one last look in the mirror before turning around. He couldn't stay in here forever.

Christopher leaned in the door frame, both his hands buried in his pockets and seemed to have calmly waited for him. Minho almost bumped into him. He stopped and avoided looking him in the eyes.  
  
"I should probably thank you."  
"Probably."  
"Thank you."  
"It's okay."  
Christopher laughed quietly. He liked his laugh. That was probably the reason why he immediately looked at him, into his eyes which were finally brown again. Christophers gaze seemed to pierce through him and the second he felt his breath on his cheeks, he closed his eyes for a moment.  
"You cried. Because of me."  
.…  
"Why?"  
"Because I was scared."  
Christopher raised his eyebrows.  
"Why are you so surprised? For a second, I thought you were dead. You just dropped down."  
"Really?"  
"Really."  
Christopher made a face.  
"Yeah...was probably a bit much."  
"Much what?"  
He cleared his throat.  
"Meth."  
"Oh, the stuff I didn't have to worry about because I was never gonna have anything to do with it? Sucks, huh?"  
He laughed again.  
"Yeah, kind of. Took it for the first time, anyway. And probably the last time."  
"Why take anything at all?"  
He stayed quiet for a bit.   
"Can we talk about that downstairs? Breakfast, maybe?"  
  
The fridge was still almost empty. So two bowls of plain white rice would have to do. Minho turned on the rice cooker, while Christopher looked into the fridge himself.  
"Someone needs to go grocery shopping."  
"I didn't have the time. I was busy getting junkies with an overdose of the streets and take them home."  
"Who's cynical now?"  
Minho shrugged and gave Christopher two bowls to put on the table.  
"Why doesn't your mom get groceries?"  
"She's out of town for the weekend. Went to Adelaide."  
"I probably shouldn't tell Ian about this."  
" _Haha_.…" Minho rolled his eyes.  
The rice cooker beeped, signaling them that breakfast was ready.  
"So your mother left without getting food for you first?"  
"I'll just order something. It's fine."  
Christopher stabbed his chopsticks into the rice and nodded.   
"I don't remember the last time I had rice for breakfast."  
"You don't eat Korean with your parents at home?"   
He didn't answer, just started eating.  
"Will you at least explain what happened last night? Or are you just gonna leave after breakfast?"  
"That was the plan."  
Minho was so sick of always having to fight for every little piece of information.  
"Then let's hope your friends are gonna be the one to watch out for you next time, because I sure as hell won't."  
"Oh, right, you were scared."  
Minho slammed his bowl with both hands onto the table.  
"Yes, I was. But you don't care, I get it. Anything else?"  
Christopher also put his bowl down and for the first time this morning, something else seemed to be going through his head, other than thoughtful amusement.  
"Who said I don't care?"  
"I don't know, I just assumed that from your always grinning face."  
"It's not like I don't care that you were scared because of me. I just don't understand."  
Minho preferred to look at his hair, instead of him. Dark roots were starting to show in his bright curls.   
"What is there to not understand.", he grumbled and picked the bowl of rice back up.  
"I don't know. Doesn't happen too often."  
"What?"  
"That someone is scared for me."  
"That's surprising, considering your way of living."  
He stayed quiet again.

  
"I bet your parents are worried about you. Or Ally. Maybe they just don't show it."  
"Ally is just like me. You have to look out for yourself."  
"Well, that seems to be working just fine. And your parents?"  
"Can I smoke in here?"  
"Wow, you're asking."  
Minho made a hand gesture, showing he didn't care. Of course you were _not_ allowed to smoke in the Lee household. But he could just open up a few windows before his mother returned.  
The clicking of a lighter, cigarette smoke in the air.  
"I don't live with my parents.", Christopher finally said.  
"Oh." Minho bit the inside of his cheeks. "Well then…"  
"I'm gonna leave."  
"Okay."  
Christopher gestured at his bowl with a questioning look but Minho only shook his head. Should he put it wherever he wanted.  
  
At the front door, Christopher turned around once more.  
"Thank you, Minnie."  
He only nodded and watched him make his way to the bus station.   
Eventually, he made a decision.  
"I can give you a ride home, if you want!", he called after him.  
Christopher stopped and looked back.  
"It's okay."  
"No, really. I'll drive you, come on."

Without thinking much about it, Minho grabbed the car keys from the kitchen table and closed the door behind him. Christopher shook his head in disbelief, but made his way back and got in the car.  
"Why are you doing this?"  
"Because I can.", he answered roughly, because he didn't actually know why himself.  
Why was he doing all this? There was absolutely no reason for him to help Christopher in any way. Not after he acted the way he did, a few days back on the parking lot in front of the McDonalds. For which he still hadn't apologized, by the way.

They drove through the city in silence, Christopher only spoke when he had to give Minho directions.  
The area slowly became less friendly looking, the houses got smaller, the front yards looked neglected. Minho noticed Christopher shifting in his seat, uncomfortable, while looking out of the window. At the end of a long street full of potholes, Minho stopped. He tried not to look too surprised. The small bungalow behind the chain-link fence looked run down and an old armchair stood outside. It didn't look like a place someone would like to come home to.  
But it fit in perfectly with the rest of the neighborhood, a few houses down some kids were playing on the street and it smelled like burned rubber.

Christopher hesitated, before exiting the car.  
"I'd invite you in, but I don't think you want that."  
Minho simply shrugged.  
"If you think so…"  
He brushed his blond hair back.  
"I'll see you on Tuesday then."  
"Sure."

Christopher got out and closed the car door. Then he leaned down to the open window once more.  
"Thanks again."  
Minho nodded, started the car and this time it was Christopher, who stood on the side of the street and watched him leave.


	15. Chapter 15

When Minho got home from school on Monday, he was almost surprised at the fact that the world had just kept turning. That there were people who didn't know anything about Christophers breakdown. Who didn't know, that in some parts of this city, drugs were being sold to people who didn't have their high school diploma yet. People no one picked up when they were on the ground. Instead, his fellow students were talking about movies, parties, tests and Minho felt more and more like being caught in a bubble. Unable to actually take part in peoples lifes, deaf to their stupid, unimportant problems. He was watching, but he wasn't participating.

It was a rare, chilly day in Sydney and Minho had gotten one of his favorite hoodies from the back of his closet, to wear for the first time ever since moving here. His mother had promised to take him to a restaurant this evening, but he would only start believing it, when he'd actually be there. Sometime around 9pm. It was 4pm now.  
So what to do with all this time?   
Studying wasn't an option. His concentration abilities had been lacking ever since Saturday. Instead, he kept thinking about Christopher. About how he still didn't know why he had been lying on the street Friday night, pumped up with drugs. Why he took drugs in the first place, why he didn't live with his parents. 

Lost in thought, Minho sat at he grand piano in the dining room and put his fingers on the keys. He played the piece for the Christmas party, for what felt like the hundredth time. His fingers moved on his own and Minho enjoyed not having to think.  
Then he heard the doorbell.  
Sighing, Minho got up and closed the cover, accidentally slamming it shut.

Christopher was at the door.   
His car was parked in the driveway and he seemed a bit insecure, like he was contemplating if he should even be here. He was nervously playing with the lip piercing.  
"Uh...hey?", Minho said surprised.  
"Hey. Are you free?"  
"Uhm...yeah. I am. Why?"  
"Then come with me."  
"What?"  
"Put on your shoes. I'll wait in the car."  
Without another word, he turned around and jumped down the stairs of the front porch in one go, before sitting in his car again.

Speechless, Minho looked after him. What was going on here?  
But he smiled when he heard the engine being turned on. He slipped into his sneakers and locked the door behind him. As weird as it must sound, he was excited. Spending time with Christopher was always strange, but normal didn't seem to satisfy him anymore. And apparently, Christopher cared about him, or else, he wouldn't have showed up.

He entered the car and buckled up his seatbelt. Christopher smiled shortly before exiting the driveway.  
"Where are we going?", he asked, curious, while Christopher turned up the volume of the radio.  
"You'll see."  
Minho put his hands in his lap and looked out of the window. He knew him well enough by now, that he knew he'd only speak if he wanted to. So Minho enjoyed looking at the cloudy sky and the feeling of…yeah, of what? Of happiness?  
He looked at Christopher who was tapping his fingers onto the steering wheel to the beat of the music. Smiling, Minho looked back outside. Yeah, of happiness.

They entered a part of the city that was partly industrial area, part shopping street. Warehouses, workshops adjoining stores for more…alternative fashion. Christopher then stopped on the side of the street, directly in front of a store and turned off the engine. Minho looked around, doubting. Not, that he had expected Christopher to take him to go eat ice cream, but _this_ …  
Christopher got out, Minho did the same.  
"Follow me.", he said and Minho did as he was told.  
'Stigma' stood in curved letters on the big window of the small shop. The small security lights illuminated an array of jewelry pieces, from earrings to big gauges to piercings of various kinds and pictures of tattooed body parts.  
"Wait a moment!", Minho stopped, appalled.  
Christopher, who was looking for something in his pockets, turned around.  
"Is this a tattoo shop?"  
"Yeah."  
"What are we doing here? I don't want a tattoo!"  
"And you won't get one. Now come on."  
He seemed to have found what he was looking for and unlocked the door.  
"Why do you have a key for this place?", Minho asked while following him inside. Christopher disappeared trough a doorway behind a curtain and turned on the lights. Countless pictures of more tattoos and piercings could be found on the walls. Posters of bands and movies. Barstools in front of a counter and two aged leather couches on the other side of the room. Shelves filled with binders and magazines.  
"It's Ians shop, he gave me the key. It's this way."  
He held the curtain open for Minho to slip through, but he stayed put and looked at the photographs. Some of the illustrations were really pretty, incredibly detailed and almost too real works of people, animals or monsters.  
One of a cat tattooed on someones upper arm especially caught his attention.  
  
"Did Ian do all of these?", he asked and suddenly saw the rough boy with the dark humor in a completely different light.  
"Yep. He's good."  
Christopher stood behind him and glanced over his shoulder.  
"But you can look at the pictures another time. Now come on."  
Minho let himself get dragged by Christopher, who seemed to be really excited. A state Minho had never seen him in before, but he liked it. Smiling, he followed him into the back of the shop. Here, they found a multifunctional chair, which was currently completely turned into a lounger, a stool and all the materials you'd need to put those colorful pictures under ones skin. Needles, ink and the tattoo machine. But Christopher passed those and went towards another table, coming back with a small box in his hands.  
"Choose one."  
Confused, Minho opened the box. Inside, multiple piercings could be found. All studs, with either colorful gems or small balls attached to them.  
"What do you mean 'choose one'?", he asked and looked into Christophers smiling face, looking back at him, expectant.  
"I'll pierce you. I sometimes help Ian in the shop, I know how it works. Did it often enough. So?"  
Minho swallowed. He really wasn't expecting this.  
"Listen...that's really nice…but I can't just…"  
"Of course you can. Or are you telling me that you're scared?"  
If he was scared getting a thick needle put through his speaking-muscle? Meh.  
If he was scared because it was Christopher who was gonna do it? Definetely.  
But he wouldn't admit that.  
"Why would you think that?" His gaze went back to the small box.  
"Because you look scared. I won't mess it up, I promise."  
Thoughtful, he scanned the piercings, picking a simple silver one up and examined it.  
"Why a piercing out of all things?"  
"Because it's your body, and no one can tell you what you can and cannot do. And you said you liked piercings."  
"Yeah, on others."  
He also liked tattoos and white, bleached hair on other people.  
"So, you really don't want to?"  
Christopher almost sounded disappointed. He looked down onto the piercings. Minho was still holding the silver one between his fingers. He turned it a few times, then looked back at the blond. Took a deep breath. Why not? If he was being honest, it really was only his mothers reaction that was keeping him from doing it. Which was reason enough.  
  
"But I can't get it in the tongue. My mother is gonna find out and then she'll disown and kill me."  
Christopher grinned.  
"How about your belly button then?"   
He went back to the table to get another box. He opened it and again, multiple piercings, for the belly button this time, appeared, also decorated with colorful balls, shining gems or long pendants.   
His belly button? That was so genius, it almost made him feel stupid. He shortly imagined, what it would look like and how well he'd be able to hide it. He liked the idea of a hidden piercing even more. In a place only him and Christopher knew about.  
Minho took his time, examining every single one of them, before choosing a silver one with a mint colored gem and a small ring attached to it.  
"Are you sure?", Christopher asked a last time. Minho nodded.  
Smiling, Christopher pulled a little chair on wheels with rubber gloves, needles and multiple bottles on it close.  
"Lie down.", he ordered.  
With his heart beating faster than usual, Minho lied on his back. He pulled the hem of his hoodie upwards and exposed his stomach. Meanwhile Christopher was organizing the materials on the little table and put the gloves on. He sat down on the stool next to Minho and turned around to face him.  
"Everything alright?"  
"Yes." Minho whispered. Then he closed his eyes, and felt himself get goosebumps, the moment Christopher sprayed the cold disinfectant spray onto his stomach, before wiping it away again. The contrast created by his warm fingers made the goosebumps even stronger. He drew a small dot on his belly button, tickled his sensitive skin and made him hiss. But at the same time, Minho enjoyed the gentle touches. Here, alone with Christopher in the quiet backroom of the, usually closed, store.

"Ready?", Christopher asked and Minho opened his eyes again. He was looking him in the eyes while holding a long piercing needle and some pliers. Minho wished he wouldn't have opened his eyes and cleared his throat.   
"Ready."  
The pain came quick and intense. With the pliers, Christopher had pulled his skin and then pierced it with the cold needle. Minho took a sharp breath and felt tears beginning to form in his eyes.  
"Everything good?"  
"Mhm.…"  
"It's through. I'm gonna put the piercing in now."  
An uncomfortable tugging, then a burning feeling as Christopher pulled out the needle and replaced it with the piercing.  
"It's barely bleeding. You can look."  
The smacking sound off rubber gloves being taken off made Minho lean up on his elbows to take a look at the freshly done piercing. His skin was a little red and hurt, but there was no blood, only the mint-colored gem on his tanned skin.   
And he liked it. He really liked it.

"So?"  
Christopher sounded insecure. Expectant, he looked at him while Minho kept looking at the jewelry.  
"I don't know. You almost killed me."  
Christopher rolled his eyes.  
"Don't be so dramatic, I barely touched you."  
A wide smile was plastered on Minhos face when he finally looked up.   
"I think it looks awesome. Thank you."  
"I think so, too. And thanks for finding me, last Friday."  
The silence spreading between them was full of tension. Minho knew he should reply something, but he was too caught up in admiring the jewel on his belly. Eventually, Christopher turned back to the table and pulled the protective sticker off a big band-aid.  
Carefully, he put it on the wound and Minho couldn't help but to get goosebumps again, the moment Christopher touched his skin, this time without rubber gloves separating them. He was embarrassed about how obvious his body reacted to Christophers touch. And if he had noticed it (and how could he not have), he didn't say anything.  
"Keep this on over night. Tomorrow, you can try and turn the piercing from time to time. And don't go swimming for the next few weeks. Until it's completely healed."  
Minho pulled the hem of his hoodie down again and took a deep breath.  
"I can't swim anyways."  
"You - what?" Christopher looked at him like he just told him he saw Jesus, riding around on a wolf and handing out donuts.  
"I can't swim." Minho repeated.   
"Really? Wow. Sydney really isn't the place for you then, huh?"  
"Yeah.…" Minho smiled. A few days ago, he would have thought so, too. Not anymore though.  
  
"What's wrong?" Christopher had put the needle into a bowl with disinfectant and Minho watched him.  
"I...this may sound sad, but I think this is the craziest thing I've ever done."  
Christopher chuckled.  
"As far as I remember, you've been to one of the most famous drug hotspots in all of Sydney, all alone at night, and also picked up an unconscious junkie from the streets, alone and at night, as well. That's a bit more crazy, don't you think?"  
Minho furrowed his eyebrows. He was right.  
"And everytime I did something crazy, it had something to do with you.", he replied and kept watching how Christopher cleaned the place up.  
"Maybe you should stay away from me then, huh?", he smirked. "But honestly, you're strange enough without me."  
"Excuse me?"  
"'Excuse me?'", he mocked him once again. "I don't know if I'm the only one to ever notice, but…you're pretty odd, Minho. "  
 _'You're pretty odd, Minho.'_  
These words echoed in his head. He had no idea what that meant. He had always seen himself as pretty normal, boring at times. What if he was right? And what if Christopher wasn't the only one? What if everyone thought he was strange, but never said anything because they felt bad for him? All these questions burned on his tongue.  
"What do you mean?", was the only one he managed to say out loud.  
Christopher hesitated.  
"Well,...you move weird, sometimes, you stare at people like you're trying to make their brains explode with your mind and you always…I don't know, you just…stand out. Also, on the ride here, I noticed how you stared after every single stray cat, like you were gonna jump out of the car just to pet it."   
He didn't look at him while saying that, but he smiled.  
...  
"No one I know has ever said that about me.", Minho whispered, his eyes fixed on the ground.  
They stayed quiet for a bit.  
"Maybe these people are just not looking at you properly.", Christopher whispered back.  
"Maybe I'm just really good at pretending."   
He recalled all the times he could just relax whenever he was with Christopher, without having to worry about what he would think.  
"Certainly better than I was.", he murmured, more to himself, but Minho heard him anyway.  
  
"Well, weird doesn't necessarily mean bad.", Minho then stated and moved his legs to let them dangle over the edge of the lounger, sitting upright.  
"In this case, it does."  
"Triple X isn't bad. And my piercing isn't bad. And helping people who are alone and lost isn't bad, either."  
Christopher swallowed. He had turned his back towards him and started putting the boxes with the piercings in them back into the shelves.  
"You took something when I came to McDonalds last week, right?", Minho asked quietly. Because he still didn't know if Christopher wasn't just doing all of this because he thought he owed him something. If in reality, he wasn't just annoyed by him and wanted to be left alone again now.   
Everything concerning Christopher made him insecure.  
So he was almost relieved, when Christopher slowly nodded.  
"There was something in my joint that day. You know, something to…you get what I mean."  
Actually, no. Minho had no idea what that meant.  
"I didn't react well to it. That stuff makes you aggressive, sometimes."  
Not an apology, but an explanation. More, than he had expected. And still…as horrible as it was, knowing Christopher did indeed take drugs - he apparently wasn't annoyed by Minho!

"And today?", he then asked, carefully.  
He didn't want to push him, but if Christopher was high right now, he wanted to know.  
"Not really."  
"That means...?  
"I...smoked something."  
"Why?"  
"It relaxes, like I told you."  
He referenced the conversation they once had in the auditorium.  
"Why did you have to relax today?"  
"Min, I really think you're alright, but your questions are annoying."  
"Oh.…"  
Christopher looked like it hurt him, having to tell Minho this.  
"I'm just trying to understand, you know? It's not so easy…", he then murmured.  
"I know..."Christopher replied. "I know."


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey, Minnie-kittie!"  
Minho turned around, his slightly wet hair sticking to his forehead.  
"Oh my god what does _this guy_ want from you?", Jenna asked appalled and made a shocked face.  
Together with Felix and Jenna, Minho had just left the gym and usually, their ways would have parted on the parking lot. He would've continued his way towards the bus station - if Ian Yoon wouldn't have suddenly showed up, leaning against his car.  
"Oh that's - that's just Ian.", Minho stuttered, not sure if he should go over there or not. They didn't know each other that well. So he just raised his hand and waved.   
"Do you know where our Chris is?", he called over and Minho eventually did take a few steps in his direction, in order not to yell across the whole parking lot.  
Jenna shook her head in disbelief and Felix only shrugged.

"I think he has creative writing. But he should be here soon."  
Minho looked past him into the car and saw - Ally.  
He saw Christophers girlfriend for the first time from a closer distance. She was short, Asian and had long, bright red hair. With a moody expression, she was rummaging through Ians cassette collection.  
"That boy is definitely _too_ creative. Oh, you two don't know eachother, right? Ally, that's Minho, Minnie-mouse, that's Ally, Chris' girlfriend."  
Bored, Ally looked up. Minho stared back.  
"Nice to meet you.", he deadpanned.  
"He's always this polite." Ian smirked and pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket.  
"Same. Don't you have any Wu Tang Clan?", she asked after shortly replying to Minhos greeting.  
"If you can find any, then no."  
Ian rolled his eyes.  
"You still don't smoke?", he then asked him.  
He was about to answer, but a familiar voice beat him to it.  
  
"No, he doesn't. Hi, babe!"  
Ally shrieked excited and basically jumped out of the car to hug Christopher. Minho couldn't help but notice his heart beat picking up at the sight of him, but Christopher only nodded at him and then looked at his girlfriend. He smiled brightly and put an arm around her waist. When they began making out, Minho looked away.  
Monday he had pierced him and now he wouldn't even say 'Hello'?   
"They're always like this.", Ian whispered, loud enough for the other two to hear.  
Without turning around, Christopher showed his friend his middle finger.  
Minho didn't answer and instead stared over to the bus station, where the bus just left. Missed it again.  
He blamed the weird feeling in his gut on knowing, that he'd now have to wait an hour for the next bus and simultaneously tried to ignore the couple in front of him.

"And uh…what are you guys doing now?", he asked, because he really wanted to avoid looking in Christophers direction.  
"Band practice. If you can call it that. But only if these two manage to let go of eachother."   
"Fuck you, Ian.", Ally replied.  
Apparently, they were done greeting each other and both turned around, Christophers arm still around Allys waist.  
"Wasn't that hard, was it? So, Minnie, see you next time, when it get's dark."  
Ian winked and put out his cigarette with the heel of his boot.  
"Sure. Christopher, did you see if the big music room is still open?"  
Christopher took a moment to think. Then he shook his head.  
"No, I think it was closed already. Why, did you forget something?"  
Minho sighed.  
"Yeah, the time. My bus is gone and I would've gone back and practiced piano…oh well. I'm just gonna study for the history test next week."  
Ian let out a sympathetic "Aaaaw.", before opening the car door and getting in. Then he turned to Minho once more while Christopher let himself get dragged on the back seat by his girlfriend.  
"We could drop you off, if you want."  
Minho looked at Ian, who slapped the roof of his car with his hand.  
"It's okay, no one's home anyway. If I study here or there, doesn't matter."   
He wasn't sure if he wanted Ian to know where he lived.  
"Do you really have to study? That's so boring…"  
For one moment, Minho let himself get distracted by what was going on on the backseat. You couldn't tell where one body part started, and where the other ended.  
Great. As soon as his girlfriend was present, Minho was invisble. As if they had never talked to eachother.

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat and saw back to Ian.  
"No, but I don't have anything else to do."  
"Ian, are you done?"  
Allys impatient voice ripped Minho out of the illusion, that he could just ignore her.  
"Why don't you come with us?", Ian asked.  
By his tone of voice alone Minho could tell that he was testing him.  
"With you?", Minho asked confused.  
"Why would he want that?" Christopher threw in.  
"I'm pretty sure Minho doesn't like Triple X. We're gonna be late, Ian!"  
Ally looked intensely at their driver. Ian on the other side, looked at Minho. Expectant.  
"Yeah, he does. He came to one of our gigs. But practice?" Christopher replied.   
So he did still notice everything going around him. Minho rolled his eyes, and grinned in disbelief. Asshole.  
"He came to our show? And I didn't know - you could have become one of our groupies. I promise, I would've taken care of you first.", Dramatically, Ian put a hand on his chest, before turning the engine on and Minho scoffed. He thought that by now, he would've almost gotten used to Ians bad jokes. Almost.  
"Why not. I'm bored anyway."  
He was gonna show Christopher that he was very capable of making his own decisions.  
"Perfect. Get in. I'll let you sit on the passenger seat.", Ian smirked and Minho took one last glance at the school, before sitting down next to Ian.

Ignoring the look Christopher gave him through the rear mirror, Minho relaxed in the seat. He didn't look thrilled.  
Just two days ago, the blond came to his house to invite him to a private piercing-session, and today he seemed to be purely annoyed by Minhos presence. It was driving him crazy. Everytime he thought he actually took a step towards Christopher, he seemed to have taken two backwards in reality. He decided to ignore the two people on the backseat during the ride and instead focused on the weird feeling in his gut.  
So he would go to a band practice, where he knew exactly two people, and he only really liked one of them. And that person wasn't happy at all about him coming along. If that didn't sound like a fun afternoon.

"So, where's your practice room?", Minho asked after they've been driving through the city for a while.  
Ians radio played some bass heavy music, making Minho think he was about to lose his hearing.  
"In Andys basement. He's part of the group."  
While Ian went back to focusing on the traffic and Christopher was busy with Ally in the back, Minho thought about what convinced him to go with them. Even though he knew the answer already. It sat in the backseat and giggled with his girlfriend.  
Minho sighed. Hopefully, whatever was causing the butterflies in his stomach, would turn out to only be a weird crush. A rebellious phase, getting to know something new. Everything else would be… fatal.   
And in general, Christopher Bang? How could that have happened? He closed his eyes for a moment. All he wanted, was to find out why he was so antisocial.   
And now? Now his voice caused Minhos heart to beat faster, his rare and fleeting remarks a weird feeling in his gut and all he ever thought about was this, still so mysterious, boy.   
Why he did what and why - it was always on Minhos mind. Tried to understand him. And all the failed attempts caused him to think about it even more. About him. And how to get to him. A vicious cycle.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're here."  
They had parked on the side of the street in a district, Minho didn't even know whether it was in the south or the north of the city. Andys house was small and looked neglected. To enter the basement, they went trough a door outside of the house, at the end of a staircase. Ian opened the trunk of his car and took out two six packs of beer before gesturing Minho to follow him.  
"Uh...should I help you?", he asked, a bit insecure but Ian shook his head, grinning.  
"Nah, I'm fine. How about you get the two lovebirds from the car? I don't want them to bang on my backseat, I just had the car cleaned."  
Great. Minho made his way back to the car, while Ian disappeared through the door into the basement.

The sight of Ally being pressed against the backdoor was something he'd have nightmares about.   
"Guys.", he deadpanned. No reaction.  
Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest. He thought about what would happen, if he'd just rip open the door, causing Ally to fall backwards out of the car. He held back a smile.   
God, what was he thinking? Was that Ians influence?  
"Well, we'll be downstairs.", he then said after none of them reacted, turned around and followed Ian while trying to erase the image of the other two from his mind.  
The 'practice room' was dark, stuffy and already occupied by Ian and two other men.   
"Oh, hey. Guys, that's Minho, our biggest fan and he's auditioning for the position of groupie. Minnie-mouse, that's Andy and that's Jace. Is Chris still sucking his chicks face? Unbelievable…come on, sit down."  
Minho did him the favor and sat down in an old armchair. The other two guys simply nodded at him before continuing to smoke. A joint, as far as Minho could tell.  
"Wanna try?", Jace asked in that moment and offered it to him.  
And he actually thought about it. If Christopher said, it helps you relax…. Also, it couldn't be that bad if he tried, right?  
A lot of people smoke weed.  
"Definetely not. His parents are gonna kill him. Are we gonna practice or what?"  
  
Without anyone noticing, Christopher and Ally had finally arrived. Just the right moment. Haha. Christopher had snatched the joint from Jace and took a drag himself before giving it to Ian.   
Was that funny to him? To just jump in and act like the responsible one? And not only that - he made Minho look like an incompetent child in front of everyone else. The blond went to get a microphone, which looked like it belonged to a PlayStation SingStar game, without sparing Minho another glance. The rest of the group followed his example, except for Ian, who leaned down to Minho.  
"Don't let Chris tell you what to do. Take a drag if you want, hasn't killed anyone, yet."   
He winked and then put the joint into an ashtray, just in his reach. Conflicted, Minho stared at it, but then preferred to look straight ahead, when he heard a screeching sound coming from one of the amps. Ally had taken a seat on one of the couches and opened up a beer can. Minho was honestly glad she wasn't talking to him.   
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. What did she have, that he didn't? She definetely seemed as open to new people as Christopher. On a scale of one to ten somewhere between zero and negative one.  
What else? Was he supposed to start drinking beer now because apparently that was something Christopher liked? He made a disgusted face. But on the other side… he was thirsty, and there was nothing else down here for him to drink. So he grabbed a can, opened it and took a sip. Tastes as bad as he remembered. And it wasn't even cold.

"Let's start with the new song Jace wrote yesterday. And Andy, mind your tempo, you're usually too fast and then there's this awkward silence before my part starts."  
Minho tried not to be too disappointed whenever Christophers parts ended, and the whole feeling of the songs got kind of lost, because of all the breaks they had to take to correct mistakes. Twenty minutes later, Minho wanted to leave but then he remembered hat he didn't come here with his own car.   
The joint also wasn't an option anymore because Ally had grabbed it shorty after practice began and almost smoked it all in one drag. Now she had her eyes closed and almost seemed to fall asleep. And in just that moment, the boys decided to take a break.   
  
Without wasting another second, Chan let himself fall onto the couch and Ally immediately climbed into his lap. Minho rolled his eyes so hard, he feared they'd get stuck. He brought the beer can to his lips, wanting to take another sip before realizing that he had already downed half of it. The air down here was getting more and more stuffy.  
Suddenly, he felt something shift next to him.   
Ian had somehow managed to sit down with him on the small armchair, an arm put around his shoulder.   
"So, did you like it?" Ian asked, sipping on a beer can.   
Minho did the same, despite feeling a headache coming. Ians breath hit his neck while talking to him and he suddenly felt hot.  
"Yeah, I liked it. You guys are really good.", he murmured.  
"I'm glad. You know, we got really lucky with Chris joining the - "  
He stopped listening to Ian, his gaze fixated on Christopher, even though the sight made him unbelievably uncomfortable.

Minho had finished his beer and put the can away. Everything felt weird at the moment.  
The air was too thick, the light down here too bad and the ringing in his head too loud. Too many thoughts were going through his head, melting into one big clusterfuck.  
"- so that kind of sucks." Ian finished his monologue.  
And suddenly, Minho found himself turning his head towards him, feeling his breath on his cheeks.   
Closing the distance between them, his own lips found Ians. As soon as they touched he stopped, didn't move a single inch.

What made him do it? Pettiness? Pure stupidity?   
He didn't know, but he also didn't care the moment Ian kissed him back. He could feel him smirk against his lips.  
This wasn't his first time kissing someone, and if his mother knew that, she'd flip. But right now, he was really glad he at least had some experience in that matter. Ian smelled like cigarette smoke and alcohol, which somehow seemed intoxicating, in a way.  
Minho felt good.  
Though, he didn't know if _kissing Ian_ felt good, or _spiting Christopher_.  
He couldn't help but open his eyes a bit, glancing over to the other two for a moment.   
No reaction. Whatever.   
He put his attention back to Ian and after quiet a while, Minho pulled away, catching his breath.   
His mind felt hazy. Ian seemed to notice.  
  
"You good?", he whispered, close to his ear.  
Despite feeling a bit buzzed out, nauseous even, Minho nodded. He actually didn't know how he felt now.  
Ian grinned.   
"Come on, let's get out of here."   
He pulled Minho up with him, before pushing him towards the door by the small of his back.   
Faced with the bright sunshine outside, Minho closed his eyes and let Ian pull him up the stairs.   
"Let's get you some fresh air.", he heard him say.  
At the top of the stairs, Ian sat down, patting the spot next to him, motioning Minho to take a seat. He buried his face in his hands and Ian lit a cigarette.  
They just sat there in silence, for god knows how long, while Minho tried to calm himself down.  
God, he was _such_ an idiot. What did he think would happen when he kissed Ian? That Christopher would suddenly pay attention to him?  
He let out a loud groan, rubbing his face. Ian chuckled before taking a last drag from his cigarette.  
"You know you'll have to tell Chris some day."  
Minho pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He really wasn't in the mood for conversation right now.  
"Tell him _what_?"  
"That you like him."  
There it was. The overwhelming headache.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone for the wonderful and nice comments you have left me. I wish I could reply to each of you individually but I kind of have a hard time expressing myself so I just wanna say THANK YOU again to all of you, your comments really inspire me to keep going with the fic and I'm so grateful for them.

"Anyone got some bills? And clean up that table real quick."  
What was going on now? As soon as him and Ian had entered the basement again, Minho tried to understand what was happening before his eyes. The others were sitting on the floor at the small coffee table, Jayce wiped across it with the hem of his shirt and then continued to move all the stuff on it to the floor. Christopher sat next to him, looking unhappy, somehow, after spotting him and Ian.  
"Finally. Maybe this will make Chris pick up the pace.", Ian grinned and went to sit at the table. The moment Minho noticed the little plastic bag, he was less shocked than he thought he'd be. So that's how it was. He took a step back, hoping no one would get the idea to ask him if he wanted to try. Weed was bad enough already, but cocaine?   
"Two lines each. And I'll get thirty bucks from everyone."  
Andy sat down and put two little piles of the white powder onto the table top and Ian started separating each with his ID into two lines. All of it happened as natural as Minho would open up a soda can.

"Thirty? God, shit's getting expensive, it was twenty-eight last time. Oh, I still got some weed left from last weekend. Wasn't that great, the one Tim gave me was better." Ian pulled some bucks from his wallet and rolled them up. That was the moment Christopher suddenly got up.   
"I left something in the car. Can you come with me real quick, Minho?"  
And without waiting for an answer, he roughly grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the dark room into the light of the setting sun.

Still speechless, Minho stared back at the closed basement door.  
"Are you coming?", Christopher asked annoyed. He was almost at the top of the staircase and now impatiently looked down at him.  
"So...you…shit."  
He didn't manage to say more before slowly walking up the stairs, for the second time today.  
"Yeah, shit." was the only thing he said and smiled a bitter smile. Here, in the warm sunlight, on the parched grass in front of Andys house, the scene from the basement almost seemed unreal. He kept looking back, wondering what was going on down there now.  
"I didn't think - ", he started but Christopher immediately interrupted him.  
"There you have it. You don't t _hink_!" He harshly spit the words out and Minho took a step back. His hands were balled into fists and he intensely looked at Minho. He wasn't even playing with his piercing.  
"How was I supposed to know that - "  
"Minho, _please_! Don't act dumber than you are!"  
"Stop always treating me like an Idiot! Sorry that I didn't expect to have a study session with a group of junkies!"  
"How do think I get this shit? You think it comes flying through my window?", Christopher suddenly yelled and turned around, as if he couldn't stand the sight of Minhos ignorance any longer.  
He had yelled at him.  
"How was I supposed to know?", he asked again but a whole lot more quiet than Christopher. Because if he thought about it now, the rapper was right. He should've known, that Christophers friends were not reluctant to drugs.  
But he wouldn't have come along if Christopher hadn't acted like he did! But everytime they were together, Minho had the feeling of having to prove to Christopher that he wasn't just some bratty rich kid, who had never tested his limits before. But apparently, that was indeed the case. But of course he wouldn't admit that.  
"I said you had better things to do! But no, you had to prove that you know everything better, instead of just listening to me!"  
"Oh so that's what you meant? Sorry, I just thought you were in a bad mood again!", Minho snarled back.   
Minho felt cornered. Why was he being so unfair? Did he look like he could read minds?  
"In a bad mood?! Are you kidding me? And what was that with Ian?"   
Oh. So he _did_ notice.  
"What I'm doing with Ian is none of your business!"  
"Minho, stop! I know you don't like him that way. I could tell by simply looking at you!"  
 _Why was he looking at him?_  
"If you're trying to tell me something just tell me, I just don't get you! You're driving me crazy!"  
"Then why do you keep coming back?!"  
Christopher had taken a few steps towards him and now stood in front of him again, his voice still raised. Minho just wanted to simply walk away, but he knew better. So he took a deep breath.  
"Because in the few moments, in which I feel like I'm slowly getting to know you, I think you're really nice. Even though you're making it really hard for me!"

Christopher opened his mouth, looking for something to reply - but closed it again. Looked at Minho, confused, and then relaxed his hands. He furrowed his eyebrows and scanned Minhos face which probably had gotten all red from the fuss they had made. He wasn't used to getting yelled at.   
"Follow me.", Christopher said after he pulled himself together.  
Minho stayed put, too stubborn to move.  
"Where to?"  
"To the bus station. You're going home."  
"You can't tell me what to-"  
"Minho, _please_. Just once, listen to me."  
Minho grumbled, but telling by Christophers expression, he wouldn't accept another negative answer. So he gritted his teeth and followed him off the property.

They walked down the streets to the next bus station in silence. Christopher took a look at the schedule.  
"It'll be here in fifteen minutes."  
"Okay."  
Minho sat down on a bench, crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at the grey asphalt underneath him. Couldn't Christopher have replied something to the last sentence he had said to him? That he also didn't absolutely hate him? Instead, he stayed quiet and Minho wondered whether it was the right decision, telling Christopher that he liked him. Somehow.  
"Won't you ask if I'm gonna stay with you?"  
All the anger seemed to have vanished from Christophers voice.  
"No."  
If he liked it complicated - sure.  
"You're not thinking again."  
Oh, really?  
"Cool."  
He should either have a conversation with him or not.  
"Are you mad again?"  
"Nope."  
Christopher seemingly didn't know how to handle Minhos new cold attitude towards him, so he lit a cigarette.  
"How's your piercing?"  
"Fine."  
Minho looked after a passing by pick up truck.  
"You don't have to wait with me."  
"Yes I have. Because you have no idea what kind of neighborhood we're in. These people will see your watch and your sneaker and you're gonna walk home without them."  
Uneasy, Minho looked around. Sure, the area didn't look like in the real estate magazines and so did the people but…was Christopher right?"  
Or better - when wasn't he right? Damnit.  
  
"Why did you tag along today?", he eventually asked after smoking his cigarette and putting it out on the ground.  
"I like your music."  
"And.…?"  
"Nothing."  
"Sure.", Christopher chuckled. Then he sighed.  
"Scoot over."  
He sat down next to Minho, who desperately clinged to the thought of next weeks history test, when Christophers warm skin brushed his upper arm. Don't get goosebumps, anything but goosebumps.  
"Minho, I'm not saying I don't like you. It's just…we come from two different worlds and - "  
"Why does everyone tell me that?!", Minho interrupted and put his elbows on his knees to support his head.  
"Because that's just how it is. And my world isn't necessarily good for you."  
Yeah, he had noticed that by now. But was his own world good for him? He definetely wasn't comfortable in it. He seemed to not really belong anywhere.  
"But it's good for you?" he asked and tied his shoelaces. Or better, acted like it to escape Christopher soft touches.  
Christopher hesitated.  
Minho on the other side sat back up again and looked at him.  
"See."  
He shook his head.  
"It's different for me. It's my own fault for getting myself into all of… _this_. I can't change that anymore and that's okay. But I don't want you to get stuck in this."  
"Who says I'm getting stuck?"  
"Did you not think about smoking that joint a few minutes ago? I could tell by your expression, Minho."  
"Well, one drag can't be that bad."  
Annoyed, Christopher jumped up.  
"Yes, Minho, it is that bad! Because that's how it starts! And all this stuff isn't wort it, it's just not worth it."   
He threw hands in the air before locking them behind his head and turning his back towards Minho. He stared at the back of his shirt.  
"I just want to…", he started but didn't finish.  
"What do you want? I noticed that you were uncomfortable. So?" He turned back around to look at him with a bitter twitch in his lips. He seemed to have found an answer in Minhos eyes, he didn't even know himself.

"I'm not gonna get rid of you, am I?", he asked, resignated.  
"Last time you got rid of me you ended up on the street and I had to get you back up again."  
"You didn't have to."  
"Yes, I did. We already talked about this. Just tell me to my face that you don't want to see me anymore and we're finished."  
Minho sounded cool, but on the inside, he was shaking, scared of Christopher doing exactly that.  
"Why? What is so interesting about" He spread his arms, obviously talking about everything that had happened in the last few days. "all of this?"  
"Counter question: What's so interesting about cheerleading and boring parties?"  
"Now you sound like a rebellious teen."  
Maybe he was one.  
"So, just to get this right. You like neither Ian nor the rest of the guys, you're not interested in drugs and you're also not a weird fan. You let me sleep in your house, completely high, even though I acted like an asshole towards you. And you're still here. Probably because of me." Christopher counted these things like he was putting together a grocery list.  
He stood in front of him and looked down at him. At least he wasn't laughing.  
"I have a girlfriend, Min. I love Ally."  
"I never said anything else."  
"And?", Christopher asked, confused.  
"No 'And'. I think you're nice, I told you that already."  
"Nice?"  
"Nicer than Caroline, nicer than Toby, nicer than Ashton. Ian is a weird guy, but he's okay, because he's not as bad as this entire stupid swim team." Christopher let out a breathy laugh at that. "If the only person in school, that I actually find nice has a few problems - okay. Then that's something I have to live with. Still better than Carolines flirting-attempts and Tobys jealousy."  
"You're completely insane."  
"Same goes for you."

Christopher groaned. But he sounded more amused than annoyed.  
"And your only problem with me is that I come from 'another world'?", Minho eventually wanted to know, drawing out the words 'another world' to emphasize how stupid he thought that description was. Christopher looked at him for a bit, and Minho was proud that he was holding up against it.  
"I simply can't see trough you. You're so unpredictable, you never take the logical way and honestly, it's so weird."  
Here we go again.  
"Weird?"  
Christopher rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, weird. Irritating, in a way."  
"I'm irritating? Have you looked in a mirror?", Minho replied, in disbelief.  
Christopher Bang was probably the most irritating person he had ever met. But exactly that was the reason why he was where he's at now. Because he tried to understand Christopher. He hadn't made any progress on that route, but he was sure he was on the right way. Suddenly, Christopher brushed through his hair a bit embarrassed.  
"You should dye it.", Minho said, after staring at his hair for a bit.  
"What?", Christopher sounded surprised.  
"Like, something colorful. That would look really cool."  
"Where did you get that idea from?", he then chuckled, still sounding confused.  
Minho shrugged.

Christopher half-heartedly smiled and started playing with the piercing once again.  
But before he could say anything, they both saw the bus coming to halt in front of them.  
"Well then...get home safe. And do me the favor and stay away from problems for once."  
"I'll think about it.", Minho grinned at him and then entered the bus. With his hands in his pockets, Christopher looked after him. He didn't wave when Minho sat down and looked out of the window, and when he looked back a few seconds after the bus started driving, Christopher had already walked back.

The moment he lied on his bed in his room and stared at his ceiling, he had almost laughed at himself. For being stupid and kissing Ian but also for feeling happy. He somehow managed to make Christopher Bang a bigger part of his life, and Christopher seemed to feel the same. At least a little bit. That was more than Minho had hoped for.

"Honey, are you alright? You've been smiling to yourself the whole time I've been home.", Ms. Lee had asked after walking through the front door at 9.30pm and was now sitting at the kitchen table with her son. A few documents were lying next to them and Minho wondered, when he last just talked to his mother, without work waiting for her.  
"I'm fine, I'm just in a good mood. I was at a band practice, the group I told you about."  
"Group? What group? Could you go grocery shopping tomorrow? Also, I'd like to hear your piece for the Christmas party later."  
"Triple X, I have one of their cassettes. Don't you remember?"  
Ms. Lee took off the hairband that kept her in a tight bun.  
"Cassette? Oh, yes, those…what kind of genre was that?"  
"I don't know, something with Hip Hop and Rock and a bit Electronic I guess. But it's great, right? Christopher from my music class writes and composes most of their songs! He raps and-"  
"That's great, Honey. Oh, now that I think about it, do you have a suit to wear for the concert? I saw a great store on my way home, we could get a customized one. How about we go there Saturday and you try some on?"

Minho closed his mouth again and looked at the table in front of him. Why was he even bothering? No one seemed to care anyway, what he was doing all day, whether he had found friends and if he liked it in Sydney.  
He nodded defeated and stayed alone in the kitchen when his mother went upstairs. She managed to ruin his good mood in a matter of seconds.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, I am an actual dumbass. I deadass skipped one chapter and now I have to ruepload this one. So now there's a new Chapter 17 which I failed to upload before. Luckily, the connection between chapter 16 and this one right here (which was supposed to be chapter 18 from the very beginning) was rather smooth so there was no confusion. So yeah, the original chapter 17 has been uploaded.

"An essay about how skipping class will have negative effects on your résumé, you have one hour. If you're done early, you'll still have to stay. And no talking."  
Minho felt like a criminal. He had skipped class once, not stolen a car. And still, he had to spend his Thursday afternoon in this stuffy room, with a single sheet of paper in front of him and the most unnecessary assignment ever. Aside from him, there were three other students here, on this hot afternoon. The air was thick, tiny dust particles danced in the ray of sunlight that came through the almost completely closed shutters. The ultimate boredom, and he also had to go grocery shopping later on. The teacher sat on his desk and opened up a newspaper. For a few seconds, Minho stared at the black printed headlines, without actually reading them. Suffocating silence went through the room like a wave and seemed to sweep away any last bit of motivation.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm a bit late."  
He didn't turn around, he also didn't open his eyes, he had closed the moment the letters on the newspaper started to blur. He only smiled. Maybe this single hour of detention wouldn't be too bad.  
The teacher put away his newspaper and reached for the piece of paper that contained all the names of the present students.  
"I can see that! How many times do you have planned to honor us with your presence, Christopher? I thought the last time would have been a lesson learned!"  
"I just love seeing you, Sir."  
"Stop joking around. Five minutes late means five minutes longer for you. Take a paper, sit down and write about the futility of skipping class. You have one hour."  
Now Minho turned around, grinning, because he knew Christopher would roll his eyes at the stupid assignment. And he was right.  
Christophers eyes widened for a moment when he noticed Minho. Then he looked out of the window, at the empty campus and sat down next to him. He let his bag slide to the floor and smiled at him shortly.

Minho started the essay. The faster he was done with it, the faster he could just sit there and do something else. Watch Christopher.  
Quickly, he had filled half a page, then the ideas left his head. Distractedly, he wrote a few more sentences before skimming over it. Definetely wouldn't win a Nobel price.  
Christopher next to him was bored as well. He kept looking out of the window, and at one point, he secretly pulled another piece of paper from his bag and continued writing on that instead. Looked more like a song text than an essay.  
Minho wrote another four sentences before finally putting his pen down. He had filled an entire page, that should be enough. He leaned his head on his hand and closed his eyes, mentally putting together a grocery list. Why did he always have to go get groceries, even though he didn't have the car? How was he supposed to buy more than ten things at once. And in general, why-  
  
"Alright folks, turn in your essays. And then get out of here!"  
An hour was over already? Surprised, Minho got up with the others, turned in his assignment and then got his bag. Only one person stayed seated: Christopher was supposed to stay five minutes longer and was now spending his time staring out of the window.  
"You too, Christopher. And at least for this month, I don't want to see you here again, got it?"  
He slowly got up and handed in the essay.   
"I see what I can do.", he replied and then raised his eyebrows upon realizing that Minho had waited for him.  
"Why were you late?", he asked when they both exited the room and made their way towards the parking lot.  
"I met Toby and some of his nice friends on my way."   
"And that means?", Minho asked warily.  
"Doesn't mean anything."  
Minho stopped himself from asking further. If he had learned anything the last few weeks, then it was the fact that Christopher wouldn't say anything, if he didn't want to. Just like right now.

"So, what are you doing now? Band practice?"  
Christopher shook his head.  
"Even if so, I wouldn't have taken you with me."  
"How nice of you. But I don't think I would have taken up on that offer."  
"Good to know…what about you?"  
Minho knew he only asked to be polite. Or was he really interested in his life after school? Never give up hope, right?

"Uhm, shopping…I'm gonna go grocery shopping."  
"With the bus?"  
"How else?"  
"So, no car?"  
"Nope."  
"Should I drive you?"  
Wait a second. Did he really ask him that? If he should drive Minho to the mall? Seeing Minhos expression, Christopher grinned.  
"I have to get some stuff from the music store, I could take you with me."  
For a moment, Minho really thought he would come along because of him, but this was Christopher Bang who was standing in front of him. What did he expect?  
"That would definetely make it easier for me."  
"Come on, then."

The music store in the mall was at the very top and rather big. All kinds of instruments were being sold here, just like scores and other equipment. That's were Christopher went while Minho stayed with the pianos. He had just tagged along instead of going to the grocery store. Christopher had raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Minho decided to follow him until he'd call him out for it. Which hadn't happened yet.  
Keyboards, pianos and also two grand pianos were provided for trying out. Minho looked around. The only employee in sight was busy with another customer and aside from them, the store seemed empty. So he sat down at a white Steinway and softly put his fingers on the keys. Bachs 'Minuet' was a piece he'd been able to play in his sleep for years, so now his fingers went over the keys and filled the, until now, silent room with music. The sound was nice, even though the acoustic in this room wasn't too great.   
Still - that's how he loved playing. Without a know-it-all tutor, a nagging orchestra teacher or, out of all things, the ever criticising eyes of his mother. Everybody always wanted him to play harder, faster pieces, but to be very honest, Minho had always thought that the more simple ones sounded the most beautiful. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine being alone and only playing for fun. He hadn't played purely because of his love for music in ages.  
The music got quieter and eventually faded. And when Minho opened his eyes, not only did he see the curious employee who had gotten closer, but also Christopher, who standing a bit to the back, watching him. And for the first time, Minho seemed to have noticed something like genuine interest in his gaze. Interest in _him_. Or at least, his music.  
  
"Sorry, I got distracted. Were you waiting for long?", he asked, because no one else said anything. He wanted to close the pianos cover but Christopher beat him to it and held him back.  
"Wait. Scoot over."  
Surprised, Minho made way for Christopher on the white stool he was sitting on, so he could sit next to him.  
"I'm not as good as you but uhm…do you know Mozarts Sonata in C?"  
Minho nodded. It was a simple piece he often had played with his old piano teacher. With four hands.  
But that Christopher knew Mozart…?  
The blond put his slender fingers on the white keys, seemingly trying to orient himself before looking at Minho. He did the same and played the first notes. Christopher followed and soon after, they played together on the many keys.

Minhos trained hearing didn't miss Christopher striking a wrong tone from time to time, but that was alright. This wasn't a competition and his apologizing smile he displayed whenever he played the wrong key, definetely made up for it.

Minho could feel his warmth by how close they were, and even though he could smell him. A bit like cigarettes but most of all like…him.

"I haven't played in forever, but you…you're really good."  
Minho felt himself blush and preferred to look down onto his hands. He usually wasn't like this. He knew how to take compliments when he felt that people were right. What's the use in being bashful? But these words coming from Christopher…  
This was the first time he had complimented him. At the same time, he thought it was ridiculous to be this happy about the words of some guy, who himself admitted of not being too good at playing piano.  
"Well, it's because I play every day, I guess. Did you find what you wanted to buy?"  
"Every day? Really?"  
"Well, my mother is pretty strict in that aspect…"  
"So, you wouldn't play on your own accord?"  
Minho cleared his throat.  
"I mean, yes I would. But not as much, I guess. And other pieces. But it's fine this way. She's my biggest critic, you need someone like that, or else you won't improve.", he said and finally closed the cover. Christopher stared at him.  
"For who do you want to improve?"  
"For...for myself, I think. What's the point in playing if you don't get better."  
"But you're already really good. Sounds more like stress than a hobby."  
Because it wasn't a hobby. Not his, at least. He leaned his head to the side when he realized, that dancing was the only thing he really liked doing. He seemed to only work for others, but not himself.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
"Sure. Well, how about you go pay, I have to go get groceries myself. See you…tomorrow. I guess." Almost panicking, he jumped up and if Christopher wouldn't still be sitting on the stool, he probably would've knocked it over. Surprised, he looked after Minho who almost ran out of the store.  
He hurried to get to the grocery store because he could feel tears prickle in his eyes. He himself didn't know why Christophers statement hit him that hard. Maybe because he was right. He couldn't remember the last time he played without worrying, since he usually avoided his own piano like the plague. And then Christopher came, who kept hitting the wrong keys and revived Minhos love for music in just a moment.

He grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it through the aisles, trying to calm his heartbeat down. He knew that Christopher wasn't interested in a friendship with him outside of school, he should just accept that.  
  
"Was cereal so important to you that you had to run out of the store?"  
The slightly mocking voice made Minho jump before looking up. Smiling, Christopher stood in front of him.   
"What are you doing here?"  
"Getting groceries with you. I'll drive you home."  
"You...with…what?"  
"So, what do you need?"  
He ignored Minhos confusion and reached for a pack of cereal.  
"These are good, you should get those."  
Minho just nodded and Christopher put the pack in the cart before walking away.  
"Are you coming?", he asked when Minho still didn't move an inch.   
He swallowed, then followed him. He didn't even know what to think anymore. Maybe he should just leave it be, the thinking.

He actually gave him a ride home. He knew the way by now, so they both stayed quiet. You could almost say it was tradition, that Christopher would play one of his cassettes and they'd both just sit there and enjoy the music.   
Christopher helped him carry the bags inside and actually, Minho had thought he would leave after that, but instead he closed the front door behind him and then watched Minho put the groceries away.  
"Thanks for driving me. You really didn't have to do that."  
He smiled: "Will you play the piano again?"  
Minho shrugged.  
"Sure...what do you want to hear?"  
Christopher watched him making his way towards the grand piano in the dining room.  
"Something you like. Something you haven't played in forever."   
Minho shortly closed his eyes. How was he able to just look through him like that? He opened the cover. How long had it been since he last played it outside of his practicing hours? I was different, in the beginning. Every touch with the keys, every occurring tone an adventure. Now it was bothersome. The music he played hadn't reached him in a long time. It was music printed on piece of paper, nothing more.

He sat down and brought his hands in position. The piece he played was only a bit longer than a minute, so he made it longer by trying a medley of his favorite pieces, connected melodies where they actually didn't fit together and grinned apologizing, whenever a part sounded too odd.  
He ended on a nocturn and then put his hands in his lap, smiling.

"You play nice when you can do what you want."  
"When I - what?"  
"I saw you during orchestra once. You didn't play as good. The right way and everything, sure, but without…passion. You didn't smile. This time you did."  
He blinked. Christopher had watched him? What was he supposed to think of that?  
"I-"  
"Think about it, I gotta go. I'm meeting up with Ally."  
He pushed himself off the dining table he'd been leaning against. As a musician, he probably knew how the sound of piano got impaired if you touched it while playing on it. Minho hated nosy people who leaned on the instrument and ruined the sound by doing so.  
"Sure…have fun.", he said thoughtfully, he replied without really knowing what he was saying.  
"Hey!"  
He jumped.  
"Are you free tomorrow? I'd like to show you something?"  
"Show me something?"  
Christopher nodded.  
"Uh...yeah. I don't have anything planned."  
"Then come to Maccas at 8pm, when my shift is over. If we hurry, we should make it in time."  
He waited for Minho to nod and then left through the front door.  
What did he want to make in time?


	19. Chapter 19

He had left his mother a note, saying he'd be home late and then closed the front door behind him at 7:30pm. He was nervous, his palms were sweaty. What had Christopher planned?   
It was getting kind of fresh and rainy outside in Australia now, so once again, Minho was able to get one of his favorite hoodies from his closet. Should he take a jacket? Did he have enough money? What if he was underdressed?

Sighing, he took the bus downtown. Every meeting with Christopher seemed like a surprise party.   
The bus stopped and Minho was released into the fresh evening air. Hesitant, he entered the fast-food restaurant and looked around.   
And then - he almost had a heart attack.  
At a table right by the entrance sat Caroline, Eleanor and almost the entire cheerleading squad. Annoyed, he looked away. It's not like he was embarrassed, getting seen with Christopher, but he could already imagine the hysteric show Caroline would put up. Especially because Minho had been avoiding her for weeks and now he was meeting up with Christopher.

But for a moment, he forgot about that when he spotted said boy behind the counter, putting burgers and cups on trays. He was really intending to spend his free evening with him, not Ian or Ally. So he did care about him. At least a little bit.   
Since he didn't stand in any of the lines and just leaned against the wall at the entrance, he soon stood out and Christopher smiled at him, when he noticed him. He gestured him to wait for a bit while he disappeared in the back. Minho thought about sitting down for a few minutes, when his fellow students finally spotted him.

"Minho? Hey, Minho! What are you doing here all alone?"  
Eleanor waved at him and after hesitating for a bit, he went to their table.  
"I'm waiting for someone."  
"We're going to the movies. Wanna come? My treat."  
Caroline smiled at him while sticking her fork into her salad. Who went to McDonalds to eat a salad?   
The rest of the girls giggled at their team captain, starting another flirting attempt. Minho shook his head.  
"Like I said, I'm waiting for someone."  
"Oh, really? Who? One of the guys? Aren't they all hanging out at Matts place tonight?"  
Eleanor asked, but Minho couldn't help but notice Carolines gaze on him. Almost predatory. He looked away and put his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.  
"No, I-"  
"Are you coming?"  
Minho jumped a bit and the entire table suddenly went silent.

Christopher was done changing and was now standing next to Minho, without really caring about the cheerleader squad. Minho nodded. From the corner of his eye he noticed how all the eyes had been on Caroline. Her expression swayed somewhere between disbelieving and uncomprehending.  
"You're meeting up with _that guy_? You've got to be joking with me, Minho."  
Caroline started laughing, and her friends joined her, though unsure. He was skating on thin ice right now.  
"Yes, I am. See you on Monday, have fun at the movies."  
Minho could feel the bad mood affect everyone around them. This wasn't how this evening was supposed to start out. Quickly, he grabbed Christophers wrist to pull him with him, but Caroline wasn't done yet.  
"Wait!"  
Christopher sighed.  
"Minho, don't be ridiculous. Let this loser crawl back into his hole and come with us. I'll even drive you to Matts stupid boys night if you don't wanna come to the movies with us. But you really don't need _that_."  
Minho felt himself get angry. How dare she talk about Christopher like that?  
"I hope you're having a good day, too, Caroline." Christopher threw in.  
"Who asked you, jerk?"  
"Charming as always."  
"Shut up, freak!", Eleanor screeched.  
"And get your fucking hands off him.", Caroline hissed these last words menacingly.  
A bit confused, Minho noticed that he was still holding onto Christophers wrist.   
"Caroline, stop. Exactly that's why I can't stand you. Let's go Chris."  
"Chris?!", Caroline repeated, shocked.  
"Chris?", Christopher also asked, but he sounded amused.  
Of course, Minho had never called him that, even though he knew it was his nickname. But why not? He liked the sound of it.  
Without answering any of these two, Minho turned around and pushed the door open.   
"Fucking faggot!", Eleanor called after them.   
The door closed and the noise of the restaurant was replaced by traffic sounds.   
  
"I'm sorry.", Minho said after a few seconds just as Christopher unlocked his car. He was about to get in when he noticed Minho hesitating.  
"I know, girls are scary when they get mad. It's not your fault Caroline's such a nice person."  
"I should've known she'd be like this. She wanted to go out with me…but I didn't."   
"So you prefer spending time with me, instead of a date with Caroline? I'm honored.", Christopher replied with an ironic tone in his voice, but he laughed. He didn't seem to be bothered by the incident that had occurred just now.  
"Stop being so sarcastic, I'm really sorry. She had no right acting like this."  
"It's survival of the fittest. It's really okay, I've known Caroline for years. You rejected her in front of her friends, no wonder she reacted like this. And now get in, we're gonna be late."  
"How can you be so calm? Are they always like this?"  
Christopher leaned his head to the side.  
"Self-criticism and tolerance have never been one of our cheerleading captains strong points. Has always been and will always be like this."  
Shaking his head, Minho finally entered the car. He couldn't believe that this really was Christophers daily life.   
"Have you always handled that so well?", he whispered while Christopher chose a cassette to listen to.  
"What do you think?", he asked back and turned on the headlights.   
Minho stayed silent. What did a person have to go through to become this resistant? He had always thought of himself as confident and probably wouldn't even bother if someone talked to him that way. But he doubted it was the same for Christopher.  
"At some point, you learn how to live with it. How's your piercing?"   
The change of subject was badly hidden. Minho felt that Christopher didn't want to talk about it. His lips were pulled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.   
Minho decided not to ask further. He would talk about it if he wanted to.

"Everything's fine. Hurts a bit sometimes, but not too much."  
"I can take a look at it later, if you want to."  
"Will you tell me where we're going?"  
"No."  
  
Minho rolled his eyes, but smiled and looked out of the window at the passing buildings. From the corner of his eye he could see Christopher shortly looking at him, but he just smiled and waited. They would arrive at some point.

They soon left Sydneys downtown. The cars became less; so did the people. Trucks and warehouses soon became the main scene, the roads turned wider and chain-link fences surrounded them. Some streetlights in front of factories and empty company buildings lit up, one by one. Minho would've thought it was creepy, if he was alone. So he just leaned his head back and watched Christopher stir the car past all the driveways, until he finally stopped infront of an old warehouse. The next street light was a whole lot farther away and the asphalt was overgrown with weeds.   
"Are you sure this is the right place?", he asked doubtingly as they got out of the car and looked at the, by the last sunlight of the day illuminated building.  
"Of course. Come on, we're just on time."  
He scrunched his nose at the thought of entering this old, dusty building with Christopher.  
"Are you scared?"  
"No, more like repulsed."  
"Oh, come on now. It's fine, this place has been empty forever. Not even rats live here."  
"Wow, that's _so_ reassuring."  
Minho still hadn't moved an inch and Christopher noticed his hesitation.  
He sounded a bit hurt when he said:   
"It's okay, we can leave if you really don't want to."  
Minho shifted his gaze away from the building onto Christopher who brushed through his hair, while desperately avoiding to look at him.   
Surprised, Minho felt his stomach turn. He didn't want to hurt him.  
"I- no, no I don't want to leave. Now show me what we can't be late for, before I change my mind."  
Christopher looked up, his expression turning soft, before smiling and with a nod of his head motioning Minho to follow him.

He looked around for a second before moving an old tin barrel, that seemed to have been standing here forever, and revealed a hole in the fence. He slipped through and then helped Minho so he wouldn't get caught on the wire. They found themselves on the driveway of the warehouse that once probably had Trucks and container parked on it. Now, grass fought it's way through the cracks in the asphalt. The warehouse itself was part of a factory, the big chimney reaching into the sky, somehow looking menacing. Warning.   
The windows were smashed and the walls covered in graffiti. The place had something incredibly sad, lonely to it.   
For a moment, Minho let his eyes wander over the scenery. The red sky made him shiver.

"Come on."  
He jumped when he heard Christophers voice next to him and then followed him across the driveway towards a dark hole in the grumbly walls of the warehouse. Getting closer, Minho noticed how there probably had been a door at one point, but god knows where that ended up. As soon as they entered the building, Minho started to unconsciously rub his arms. The heat hadn't reached past the high walls, so it was rather cold in here.  
Christopher seemed to know the destination. An old steel door lead into a stairwell and they made their up the steps. One floor, two floors - at some point, Minho stopped counting the steps. From time to time something rustled, making Minho jump, but then Christopher would turn around and smile at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

Then finally, they reached another door, which Christopher pushed open. Minhos breath stocked.  
"Wow."  
Without waiting for Christopher, he stepped onto the flat roof of the building, right next to the chimney, which didn't even look that scary up close.   
The view of Sydney was incredible. He could see over the roofs of the suburbs, spot skyscrapers. He could even see the opera house from here.  
The headlights of the cars the size of ants, that drove on the winding streets, pint-sized illuminated windows and above it all, the magnificent sky. The sun was just about to set, immersing everything in an unreal red-golden light, fine clouds seemed to have been painted with gentle strokes of a brush.

Christopher had watched him, how he speechlessly stepped to the knee-high edge of the roof, his eyes fixed on the horizon.   
He had forgotten about the cold wind blowing, about them moving unauthorized on the premises, about how no one knew where they were.   
It felt like him and Christopher were alone in this world, rulers of this kingdom of concrete and stone.  
"Amazing.…" he whispered and looked directly into the sun, that was disappearing inch by inch behind the city.  
"I knew you'd like it.", Christopher said and sounded like he was smiling satisfied. But Minho couldn't turn around to check, he didn't want to miss a single second of the spectacle. First stars started to shine, while he just stood on the roof, the wind blowing through his hair, enjoying the last rays of sunlight.

He heard the familiar clicking of Christophers lighter, who had stood beside him and was taking a drag of a cigarette. Minho didn't answer, didn't want to ruin the moment with words.  
It took a few minutes, then the sunlight was gone and had made way for the rising crescent moon. The pink of the sky had turned a dark violet.

"Do you come here often?", he asked, lost in thought.  
"Sometimes. When I need some time to think."  
Christopher blew out the blue-ish smoke.  
"Thank you.", Minho said quietly and looked at the blond. He smiled at him while taking another drag.  
"For what?", he asked, just as quiet.  
"That you showed me this. I wouldn't come here with just anyone, if I were you."  
"Me neither.", Christopher replied and with that, Minho decided to just enjoy this perfect moment.


	20. Chapter 20

"I wish I could stay here forever.", Minho breathed as the sky had almost turned black. It was incredible, how fast the night came as soon as the sun was gone. He had the feeling of having walked through the steel door just a few minutes ago, but at the same time he felt like he'd been standing here for over an hour. If he wouldn't know better, he'd think he could just spread his arms and fly away.  
"Me too."  
Christophers calm voice seemed to get lost in the night, even though he stood right next to him.   
Had he been up here with Ally? Probably. Jealousy was an ugly trait.

"Wanna sit down?", Christopher then asked, after throwing the rest of his cigarette over the edge. For a second, Minho had followed the red glowing dot, then it was gone. How long would it take to hit the ground?  
"Mhm..", he let out, distractedly.  
Christopher took a step back, and without him at his side, it suddenly got cold again. Minho turned around, but the blonde had stopped already, only a few feet from him, in front of a square concrete block that seemed to cover some sort of technology. The flat surface was still warm from the sun when Minho touched it with his hand. Christopher had already sat down and let his legs dangle.

Even from here, you still had an amazing view on the city, though the feeling of freedom wasn't as strong here as it was on the edge of the roof. He would have loved to talk to Christopher, get to know him better, but the silence had something so intimate about it, he didn't want to ruin it.  
He could hear Christophers calm breathing next to him.

"I didn't think you'd still be coming, after you met Caroline and the others.", Christopher eventually said.  
His voice lacked emotion, but the nervous shaking of his knee betrayed him.  
"Why wouldn't I?", Minho asked.  
"Don't know..."  
"You don't know?"  
Christopher hesitated.  
"Chris?"  
"You called me Chris again.", he smiled.  
"Should I not?"  
"No, you should…I guess."  
A bit embarrassed, he played with the hem of his shirt.  
"Well, all your friends call you that.", Minho replied.  
"My friends?"  
"I mean...Ian calls you that…"  
"Just didn't know that we were friends."  
Minho furrowed his eyebrows.  
"We're not?"  
But Christopher smiled for real this time, even though he looked surprised, somehow. And Minho suddenly felt stupid.   
Just because he seemed to be desperately looking for friendship, it didn't have to be the same for Christopher.   
"Well, I don't know…so much stuff happened, I just thought that-"  
„Chan“, Christopher interrupted him.  
„What?“, he asked, confused.  
„Chan. That‘s my Korean name“  
„Oh."  
Yes 'Oh'. He definetely wasn't expecting that.  
"Well, I like it. Should I call you that from now on? Rather than Chris?“  
„I mean...if you want to. It‘s nice. It sound nice when you say it. But don‘t tell anyone, okay? You‘re the only person I ever told that.“, Christopher intensely looked at him.  
So, he was the only one who knew about his Korean name? Not even Ally?   
Minho felt his heart skip a beat.  
He nodded.

And then they started an actual conversation. Minho told him about his time in Gimpo, his old friends and his school. He even told him about feeling trapped ever since leaving Korea. Meanwhile, Chan told him about starting Triple X, how he learned playing the piano and guitar when he was younger, how he used to be part of the school band.  
"I can't believe I'm telling you this", Minho started: "But I absolutely hated playing piano until you played with me. It probably sounds weird, but I think you reminded me to how have fun with it."  
Surprised, Chan looked at him.  
"So you really weren't having fun? That sucks. That's not the point."  
"Yeah. I realized how the only thing I like doing is dancing. And my mother would only let me do it because I convinced her that I needed some extra workout. After years of not being allowed to. It's just…", he hesitated, looking for the right words.   
"..everything sucks. I hate living here. I hate the things I do and I hate the people I talk to. I feel like everything I do, is just me holding myself back from something. From enjoying life. That changed when I met you, though."  
Minho whispered the last part, while trying not to choke up.   
Chan heard him anyway, but didn't say anything.  
He watched the blond grab the edge of the block they were sitting on, his knuckles turning white. Was he getting angry?  
"It must be nice, though, for you. You can just do whatever you want.", Minho quickly added.   
Chan stayed quiet for a while. Then-

"Okay, I‘m gonna tell you something. I wasn‘t always like…this. Like, I obviously didn‘t come out of my mothers womb with piercings and tattoos. But up until 8th grade, I was pretty normal. I even was vice captain of the swim team.“, he confessed.  
Minhos eyes almost popped out of his head. He was…shocked, to say the least. This was the last thing he had expected of him.  
"The swim team? The same swim team Toby was in?“ He recalled Toby boasting about how he'd already been captain of the swim teams since the start of secondary, or something like that.  
Chans smile disappeared.  
"Yeah. I don‘t know what he told you, but we used to be friends.“  
Minho hesitated, suddenly feeling nauseous. He didn‘t want to push him. But his curiosity got the better of him.  
"And then what?“  
"Then I changed. I don‘t know, I guess I just went trough this emo phase everyone once had. Except that my friends were quick to drop me after I didn‘t fit their standard anymore. I realized that these weren‘t the people I wanted to surround myself with. So I got new friends. New friends my parents didn‘t like. From that point on it went downhill. I wanted to be myself and I wanted to express myself. But I didn‘t want to disappoint my parents. I felt like I was a burden to them. So I moved out as soon as I could. Sean introduced me to Ricky. And Ricky, the guy I live with, he introduced me to...other stuff.“  
 _Drugs_.  
Now, he was the one getting angry.  
„So you were the nice kid that started developing an actual personality and because you didn‘t fit in the picture, they cut you out?“  
Minho understood why Chan was so cautious when they first met eachother. Why he had build up these walls in the first place.   
He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief.  
„You were never meant to be like this.“  
The sad smile returned on Chans face when he looked at him:  
„Neither were you.“

Nothing. Complete silence between the two of them, for what felt like forever.

It had turned 11pm and Minho laid on his back. The sky above him seemed endless. Chan stayed seated, but followed his movements with his gaze.  
"I haven't been here in forever.", he eventually said and Minho closed his eyes. The wind had calmed down, it was chilly, but not uncomfortable.  
"What do you usually do on Friday nights?", he asked and looked up again.  
"Hang out with Ian…get kicked out of the house by Allys dad…make music…"  
Minho smiled.  
"Sounds like fun."  
"Huh.…" Chan sounded doubting. "What about you?"  
Minho shrugged, even though it was barely noticeable while lying down.  
"Well…flee from Caroline…meet Ian alone and in the dark…go to good concerts in dirty bars…", he grinned.  
"I used to go out with friends a lot. Or study all day. But since my mother doesn't notice anymore, if and how late I get home…doesn't matter."  
He fell silent. He didn't want to talk about his mother. Chan also stayed quiet.

"Should I check up on your piercing?", he then asked with a neutral tone to his voice.  
Minho awoke from his thoughts.  
"Oh, sure. But can you even see anything?"  
"The moon's bright enough."  
He was still lying on his back when Chan twisted himself around to look at him. A bit hesitant, he pushed Minhos hoodie up, just as much as necessary, and then touched the skin around the piercing. His fingers were warm, but Minho still got goosebumps. He hoped Chan would blame that on the cool air.  
"Does that hurt?", he asked quietly while carefully turning the piercing.  
"No.", Minho replied just as quiet.  
"Okay.…" He took the hands of his stomach, but didn't pull the hoodie back down. He just kept staring at the mint-colored gem, as if his mind was entirely somewhere else.  
"You're not breathing…", he then whispered, and really, Minho had been holding his breath unconsciously. He let out a breath and then watched Chan slowly shift his gaze from his exposed stomach to his face. His eyes glimmered in the moonlight as he kept looking between Minhos eyes and his lips, indecisive. The silence of the night was interrupted by the noise of driving cars, miles away. He almost held his breath again, when Chan slowly leaned over him, putting one hand next to his left shoulder, leaning on it. He stayed like this for a second. Then, Minho felt his heart race, blood rushing in his ears, when Chan slowly lowered his head, attentively waiting for a sign from him. It didn't come, neither a consenting, nor a rejecting one.  
Getting a bit braver, Chan nudged the tip of Minhos nose with his own, brushed against cheeks over to his closing eyelids. His warm breath hit skin, when his lips eventually replaced his nose, placing a chaste kiss on his temple. He ended up above his lips again, only stopping millimeters above them. Minho knew, that now he was the one to make a decision.  
  
And without thinking, he raised his head a bit, their lips touching without movement for a moment, before he pulled back. Minho opened his eyes. Chans own almost seemed black in the dark and he furrowed his brows, as if he himself didn't believe what just happened.  
Then, Minho closed the almost non-existing distance between them once more. Plump, soft lips meeting his own and in the same moment, he closed his eyes again and abandoned every thought from his mind that wasn't Chan.   
The body on top of him slowly lowered itself onto his own, while he slowly let one hand wander to the back of Chans neck, pulling him even closer.   
The warm metal of the lip ring pressed into his lips.  
  
Surprised, he gasped for air when Chans hand suddenly found it's way to his still exposed waist and almost immediately, the curios fingers were pulled back. They both knew this wouldn't go anywhere, the kiss didn't have any desire in it, no passion. It was a gentle touch, a breeze and still, Minho couldn't remember the last time he felt this much. He was almost overwhelmed by all the different emotions and the basis of all those were still Chans lips that had met his so unprepared.

When they finally let go of eachother, he stared into Chans eyes for a bit, before he pulled away and Minho also sat back up.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I didn't - I -"  
"It's okay."  
"Fuck, it's _not_! I just - I wanted - "  
Chan broke up, turned his back towards Minho and rubbed his face with his hands. As if he could wake up and realize that it was all a dream.  
"We're going home."  
"What?"  
"I...have to get home. I'm meeting someone."  
Hastily, he brushed through his hair with one hand. Minho scoffed. This wasn't fair.  
"You're not.", he said, almost laughing in disbelief.  
He knew he was lying. He just didn't know _why_.  
"How do you wanna know that?", Chan snarled at him, pulling his cigarette pack from his pocket. The lighter was inside of it and it took him multiple tries to get it out, before lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.  
"I shouldn't have brought you here…", he murmured, more to himself, but Minho still heard him.

"It's a bit too late, don't you think?", he just asked and tried not to sound disappointed. Hurt. He already had shown way too much.   
That's why Minho wore his mask. The mask that hid his real self, that protected him from harm, that had made it so hard for him to show real emotions.  
The worst part was, the air around them was still filled with tension, his skin still tingled, though Chan had barely touched him. The worst part was, that he missed the warmth he had felt when Chan had leaned over him. He could still feel it all and he was already beginning to miss it, so much it took his breath away.  
And Chan regretted it.  
"I didn't plan this, okay? Minho, I'm sorry I shouldn't have made you think that-"  
"Quit your bullshit already, Chan!", Minho snarled back and slipped off the concrete block. Put a distance between the two of them and stepped to the edge of the roof, nervously watched by Chan.  
"What are you doing?", he asked, unsure, as Minho stared into the black abyss, arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn't answer.   
"Get away from there, Minho."  
"Don't worry, I'm not planning on jumping. So you don't have to be scared of feeling guilty!", he yelled, but didn't turn around, and also didn't step back from the knee-high wall surrounding the roof.  
"Minnie, come on.", Chan said, a lot calmer this time and Minho felt himself get pulled back softly towards the safe middle of the roof.

"Didn't you want to go home?", he asked, and appalled, he noticed how his voice shook. He wouldn't-  
"Don't cry, Minnie."  
"Don't touch me!"  
He flinched back, avoiding Chans hand that had reached out to wipe away a tear and got rid of it with the sleeve of his hoodie himself. He didn't want to cry. He couldn't allow himself to cry. Not in front of him.  
"Stop looking at me like that."  
Chan looked away, onto the ground and then at the far away buildings of the city.  
"I'm sorry, Minho. I really don't know what happened just now, I - people get hurt because of me. I'm trying to protect them but I only end up hurting them. It's always been like this. It was a mistake."   
"Great mistake. You know what? _I_ want to go home now."  
  
Chan didn't reply anything, he held open the heavy steel door and then they silently made their way towards his car. Minho felt himself wrapped up in his bubble again. One last look at the empty building. What the hell was that? First, he kissed him out of the blue and then - Minho didn't even know anymore. He didn't know why it hurt so much when Chan seemed to wish it never happened. He _wasn't_ in love with Chan.  
That's what he thought until an hour ago. He thought he was nice, interesting, attractive. And yes, he was nervous whenever he was around - but he had always blamed that on knowing, that being friends with Chan was something people didn't want him to do. And now…

"We're here."   
Minho looked up, unbuckled his seat belt and opened the car door.   
"So you're not talking to me anymore?", Chan asked, and the audible smile in his voice was the last straw. Was he laughing at him?  
"You know what, Chan? Fuck you!"  
With all his might, Minho slammed the car door shut and then quickly walked towards the front door without looking back once. As quiet as possible, he opened the door. He didn't want his mother to see him, so he went upstairs into his room as quiet as possible. Sitting down on his bed, Minho finally let out loud sob. What was wrong with him? Or better, what was Chans problem? He was used to his self-defense, his mood swings…but he actually thought that after this evening, everything would be different.   
Minho couldn't believe he actually let himself get this close to someone, even though he knew people would just disappoint him.


	21. Chapter 21

"You need to lose some pounds if you take this suit. Very good. You'll wear the Oxfords that I got you last year. You brought those with you, right? No? Well, that's too bad…and you've gotten so tan…you always forget your sunscreen, don't you? Why do you never do what you're told?"  
Minho stood in front of a full body mirror in some boutique. He stared at himself, the dark rings under his eyes, the one-button suit of which he probably hat at least two other already in his closet that looked the exact same. The tailor cuffed the legs that were a bit too long for him and took some notes.

"Sorry.", he simply replied. What else was he supposed to say? His stomach churned while the tailor stood next to his mother. He also put on an examining look and Minho had to control himself, not to just start screaming. Scream, until no one was left in the store, until all the anger was out, until all the feelings were gone.  
But he only lowered his head when his mother raised her eyebrows.  
"We'll take it. It should be possible to lose a few pounds in three weeks, right Minho?"  
"Of course."  
He pulled the curtain of the dressing room shut and bit his lip. Bit it hard until he tasted blood.   
He opened the jacket and took of the suit. In the soft light, he let one hand brush over his stomach. His mother still didn't know about the piercing.  
He put his own clothes back on and went to pay for it. His mother had already pulled out her credit card.  
"...it's horrible. All this unhealthy food in the schools. I only eat salad under the week, does that do me any damage? No wonder that these kids are overweight. All this fatty food…oh, Honey. We still need new shoes."

When they left the expensive boutique and targeted the next shoe store, a group of teenagers came their way, and Minho wondered, what he had done to deserve this. He lowered his head, hoping Ashton, Eleanor and Caroline wouldn't recognize him. Which they of course still did.  
"Minho?"  
No, he definetely wasn't in the mood to deal with Caroline right now.  
"Who's that?", his mother asked, stopping, which forced Minho to also come to a halt.  
"Friends from school.", he murmured and looked up.  
"Hey, Minho how's it going?", Ashton asked   
"Hello Ms. Lee. Nice to meet you, I'm Caroline, Minho and I have some classes together. Those are Ashton and Eleanor."  
Caroline had pushed herself to the front while everyone nicely shook his mothers hand.  
"Did you get home safe on Friday?", Eleanor asked, faking a smile.  
Carolines expression immediately darkened. Her eyes followed every movement Minho made.   
"Sure.", Minho deadpanned while desperately trying to leave.  
"Friday? Where did you go on Friday?", Ms. Lee asked, surprised.  
Minho looked up into the sky, then forward again.  
"Out with a friend."  
"And what friend?"  
"His name is Cha-Christopher. He's in the band I told you about."  
"Band? What band?"  
Ten minutes ago, he wanted to scream, now he just wanted to disappear.  
"Christopher Bang, Ms. Lee. Minho, do you know if he still takes drugs? The poor guy struggled a lot, right? Does he still live in that bungalow in Merrylands? You must know, Ms. Lee, my parents know Christophers parents, and they worry about him a lot since he moved out."  
Minho would have loved to punch the fake compassion off of Carolines face. If that was her revenge for the last evening - then she was successful.

Minho could basically see how the words 'drugs' and 'Merrylands' bit into his mothers brain.  
"Drugs? Merrylands? Isn't that the ghetto in the west? Minho, are you telling me you interacted with someone like _that_?"  
Minho stayed quiet. His mother waited another moment before turning around to the other three students.  
"Well, it was nice to meet you, but we have to go now. Goodbye!"  
And with that, she grabbed her sons wrist and pulled him all the way towards their car. Never mind about the shoes.

Two hours later, Minho sat in front of the window and stared outside. At one point, he had just stopped listening.  
'Can't trust', 'childish', 'absolute crazy', 'criminals', 'never see again', 'house arrest'. Blablabla.  
House arrest. As if he wanted to leave the house after the stunt Chan had pulled yesterday.   
If he had needed a clear sign that he was in love with the weird, quiet boy then this was it. He wasn't sitting here, tears drying on his face because his mother had lectured him like she had never done before. Not at all. It was scary, to be honest, how little he cared about his mother being angry, disappointed.   
He was sitting here because Chan had used him. He made him think that he understood him, and that Minho meant something to him. Chan had spent time with him, helped him, talked to him he - _goddammit_ \- kissed him. And now?

It's not like Minho had pushed himself onto him! _He_ started it, _he_ was the one who - and what were those stupid excuses afterwards?  
Minho pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his head on them. He was so lost in his thoughts about Chan that he had forgotten to be mad at Caroline. She knew exactly what she was doing when she told his mother about Chan, because she knew he'd be punished for it.  
And the worst thing was. Now he really didn't have anyone in Sydney who understood him. He was all alone.

"Hey, weirdo!"  
"Did this punk ever have friends?"  
"Just look at the freak and you know the answer."  
"That a guy like this is even allowed in this school. They should just sent him to jail already."  
"Loser."  
  
Minho wanted to grab his tray and throw it at someone.  
It was Tuesday, four days after the kiss.   
How could he have been so stupid to believe that Carolines only revenge would be snitching to his mother. He should know her better by now.  
Up until lunch on Monday, he had managed to ignore her. But then they sat together on one table during lunch break, like they always did, as if nothing hat happened.   
Caroline had incited everyone against Chan, probably without even realizing that she was hurting Minho just as much. She wanted him for himself so she started to get rid of any competition. And Chan was her first target.  
Before, he had managed to live a lonely but quiet life at Newtown High. Minus the occasional pushing and name calling. Now, he became the object of hate and punching bag to the entire swim team and cheerleading squad. He was getting shoved, pushed, his stuff thrown to the ground, called names.  
And it was Minhos fault.  
Chan, on the other side, didn't seem to even notice. He picked up his things, got up when he fell down and avoided the members of the swim team whenever their ways seemed to cross. He didn't say a single word, he didn't even make a face.  
And Minho felt like his heart was breaking. But something inside him refused to take his side after what he did to him on the roof. So he tried to look away, ignore the yelling, even though every word hurt as if was meant for him, and not Chan. 

He hadn't looked at Minho once, when they met in the hallways. During music class, he kept staring out of the window and he didn't show up for book club. Minho had already lost the two pounds, his appetite was basically non-existent.   
At least something that would satisfy his mother. Sometimes, he wished he could talk to someone. But he didn't want to bother Hyunjin with his problems. And he hadn't seen Felix in a while. Just like him, Felix had only started his first year at Newtown High this September, but quicker than Minho, he seemed to have realized what kind of people he was hanging out with. So he put a distance between himself and them. Minho saw him in the hallways from time to time, but all they did was wave at eachother.

Chan didn't come to school on Wednesday, which caused Minho to be unable to pay attention to anything. On the other side, Caroline seemed to finally pay attention to him again.  
"How was your date on Friday?", she asked with a smug grin on her face.  
"It wasn't a date. Now leave me alone."  
"Minho? What's wrong?"  
They were on their way to class and Minho would've loved to just run away.  
" _What's wrong_? I wonder how you could still think that I want to have anything to do with you."  
"Minho, you know I did this for you, right? Believe me, one day you're gonna be thankful that I got rid of that freak for you!"  
"Caroline, just leave me alone. I'm serious. Don't ever talk to me again."  
She gasped, almost comically. He had been wondering if he was just a figure in a comic. A character from a drama. Someone purely created for the entertainment of others, who apparently _loved_ clichés.  
"You don't want that, Minho, and you know it. Just think about what that would mean for you!"  
Minho ignored her.  
Maybe it would have been smarter to just agree with her and keep his opinion to himself. Just as he always did.   
But at some point, people reach their limit, and this was his. He felt like he was separated from the rest of the world by an invisible wall, anyway.

On Thursday, Chan was in school again. With a black eye. Minho didn't ask how he got it. He didn't ask him anything anymore. Since they stopped talking to eachother. As the name-calling during lunch began again, Chan put his headphones on and moved towards the parking lot. Minho wanted to jump up and go after him, but he was sure that Chan was also mad at him. He probably thought he didn't care about him, the way Caroline and posse treated him.

When he entered the bus Friday afternoon, he felt like having aged an entire year in just a week. Exhausted, he sat down and looked out of the window, without really noticing anything.   
Couldn't Chan at least apologize? Clarify, that he still cared about him? But apparently, Minho had been erased out of his life as quickly as he had showed up.   
The bus started driving and slowly passed the parking lot and then the gym Minho could still see from here. The traffic was bad today, so they were moving inch for inch and Minho continued staring out of the window. Which made him notice the group of students behind the gym in the small passage between building and fence. He furrowed his brows.   
Wasn't that…Toby? And Ashton next to him? The dark hair…wasn't that Matt? What were they doing behind the gym?  
He narrowed his eyes when they suddenly left, leaving a shapeless bundle on the ground.   
It looked like a bunch of clothes, why - he gasped. Frantically, he grabbed his bag and made his way to the front of the bus. Since they were stuck anyway, it was enough for the driver when Minho told him he had forgotten a book to open the doors and let him out. He stumbled more than he ran, praying that he was wrong. That the person lying on the ground hadn't been Chan. Some students waved at him when he ran against the current, back to the school building. And when he arrived at the passage…it was empty.

Hastily, Minho looked around - there's no way he was wrong, he _saw_ him - a black notebook on the ground caught his eye. Chans notebook, that he always carried around. Minho kneeled down and picked it up, some lose papers falling out. Carefully, so he wouldn't damage them, he collected them and looked around once more. Nothing else proved that just a few minutes ago, a boy was being beat up by a group of students. Tired, he leaned against the cool wall of the gym and closed his eyes.   
What the hell did he get himself into? When had he lost control?

When he exited the passage a few minutes later, the campus was almost empty. Having to wait another hour for the next bus, he decided to sit on the fountain. Under the shade of one of the trees, Minho opened the notebook. Chan had always looked really annoyed when he let him read his song texts. And even though he felt weird, going through his private stuff, he kept turning the pages.

It was a lot of texts, some seemed fully finished, others were just passages, lines next to doodles. Some lines were crossed out, some circled or decorated with question marks. He was about to skim over the last pages when something caught his eye. Quickly, he looked for the right page again, after accidentally closing it. And there it was.   
Different from most of the texts, this one was entirely in Korean.

_I‘m thankful that I‘m warm in autumn_   
_It‘s not that I hate you, why are you suddenly misunderstanding_   
_There‘s a lot of things I like, I‘m worrying alone_   
_The way you look at me, I‘m being doubted, what you people want from me_   
_No matter what you say to me, my love never stops_

And on the very top it said, scratched out with a thick black pen but still recognizable:  
 _To Minho_


	22. Chapter 22

He would have loved to keep the page, just rip it out and put it in his bag, so he could have something from Chan. But when the next bus came, he already had put the notebook safely in his backpack. And not only that - he had a plan.  
"Do you stop in Merrylands?", he asked the bus driver just to make sure, after ignoring the bus he usually took and waiting for the next one. The driver nodded and Minho took a seat, satisfied, before driving almost thirty minutes through Sydney, until they arrived in an area Minho recognized. When he noticed the small houses and the dirty streets, he suddenly wasn't sure anymore, if this was the right thing to do. But on the other side, it couldn't get any worse than it already was every day for Chan at school. And that was Minhos fault.  
"This is the last stop in Merrylands. Are you sure you want to get off here?"  
The bus driver pulled him from his thoughts and hastily, Minho grabbed his stuff before exiting the vehicle. He turned left once, then right, then decided, that right looked more like something he'd seen before and started walking.  
He made two wrong turns and after a while, he wasn't even sure if he'd find his way back to the bus station. Probably not. But then finally, he found the street that he had brought Chan to, after his overdose. He felt himself get slower, the closer he got to the small bungalow. A big dog jumped against the fence surrounding the neighbors house and Minho almost jumped on the street.

The gate he pushed open made a horrible screeching sound. The grass hadn't been mowed in forever and now it was overgrowing the path towards the front door. There was no doorbell, so Minho knocked on the frame of the screen door. Then he waited. When nothing happened, he knocked again and then took a step back when he heard loud rummaging coming from inside. The door was ripped open and a tall guy in his late twenties appeared, wearing a wife-beater and sweatpants. He was chewing on a cigarette bud.  
"What?", he asked.  
"Uh...is Christopher home?"  
The guy scoffed.  
"What does someone like you want from Chris?"  
Someone like him? Minho looked down on himself once, furrowing his brows.  
"I don't think that's any of your business."  
Silent, the man only raised his eyebrows before grinning and pushing the screen door open, letting Minho enter.  
He took a step back so he wouldn't get hit with it and then stepped into the house.   
"It's the second door on the left.", Chans roommate informed him, before disappearing in another room.  
  
Now that he was here, he understood why Chan didn't invite him in the last time. It smelled like cold cigarette smoke and the air was thick. The tv was on, even though no one was watching and there was clutter everywhere. Arriving in front of Chans room, he knocked, trying to be louder than the tv and the music coming from inside.   
No reaction, maybe he didn't hear him.   
"It's Minho, can I come - oh my god."  
Minho opened the door just to freeze under the doorframe, speechless. Chan had turned around upon hearing his voice. First, he had looked angry, then his expression turned disbelieving.   
"Close the door, Ricky doesn't need to know everything."  
Robotically, Minho closed the door behind him and took a step into the room.   
There was a desk filled with CD's, cassettes and magazines. Also, an old two seater on the other side, a bed and a closet. The walls were filled with posters and pictures of friends, and there was also a keyboard and a guitar leaning against the wall. But Minho didn't care about that. He only saw Chan, who stood in front of the desk and had turned his back towards him again. His eyebrow was split and there was blood under his nose and on his lips. He also seemed to have problems bending down, groaning slightly and putting a hand to his rips when he went to pick up the lighter that he dropped.

Minho beat him to it and gave it to him. He didn't look at him, just took the lighter and lit a joint.   
"Don't you want to take care of your wounds first?", Minho asked.  
Chans hands were shaking.  
"In a minute. It'll hurt less after smoking something."  
He took a drag, then another one right after, keeping the smoke in his lungs for a bit before exhaling through his nose. The sweetish smell of burned weed filled the room.  
"What are you doing here?", Chan then asked, after two minutes of concentrating on his joint.  
"I...saw you…the others…behind the gym and…you lost this.", Minho struggled to collect his thoughts, so he shut himself up by pulling the notebook out of his bag.  
Chan glanced at it shortly, then shrugged. Minho put it on the desk and continued to chew on his lip.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't know…I should have just stayed with Caroline, shouldn't I?"  
"Yeah, you should have."  
That hurt.  
The blond put his joint out and left it in an ashtray next to the window. The shaking stopped and his eyes seemed glassy. He looked horrible.

"Come on, let's get you patched up", Minho eventually said, even though he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Chan then exited the room, stepping into the small window-less bathroom across the hallway, with Minho following. He looked around, a bit lost and Chan sat down on the edge of the bathtub, tiredly brushing through his hair.  
"Uh…"  
"Disinfectant, in the cabinet…"  
"Right, uh…and band-aids?"  
"Also in there…", he dragged his voice, sounding like he was about to fall asleep.   
Minho found the materials and also grabbed a clean washing cloth form the drawer under the sink, getting it wet and then kneeled down in front of Chan. Why he was doing all of this despite how Chan treated him? He had no idea and he also didn't have the energy to think about it now.  
"Scream if it hurts.", he said softly.  
Chan only chuckled and nodded.  
Carefully, he started getting rid of the dried blood on his eyebrow. Luckily it wasn't the one with the piercing in it.  
"I don't think the cut is that deep, it already stopped bleeding."  
"Great.", Chan murmured and Minho wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not. He continued to wash the cloth once, watching the water turn a rusty color when mixed with the blood. Kneeling back down, Chan had his eyes closed but as soon as he started gently brushing over his lips, he opened them again and looked at Minho. He cleaned the wounded skin under the piercing, trying to keep his eyes on what he was doing. His face was only a few inches from Chans and he felt himself getting nervous again, the tickling in his stomach, even though the timing was rather inappropriate.   
"It's gonna burn now.", he just said, putting some of the disinfectant on the cloth and then putting it on the wound above Chans eye. Said only hissed, then let out a strangled groan but didn't move any other way.

Minho grabbed a band-aid and Chan opened his legs a bit, so he could kneel between them and work more precisely. The blond followed every single one of his moves, though Minho tried to touch him as little as possible.   
"Where else does it hurt?", he asked after finishing up his face.  
"It's okay."  
"Come on Chan, let me at least look at it."  
A tortured smile graced his face.   
"I like it when you call me Chan."  
"Okay. And I would like it if you told me where else you're hurt.", Minho tried not to sound phased.  
Slowly, Chan reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, revealing a big bruise under his rips. It wasn't swollen though, and Chan seemed to be breathing just fine.  
"I don't think it's broken. You should still sue him."  
Distracted, he brushed over the bruise with his fingers and Chan jumped a bit.  
"I'm not the type to get revenge.", he joked and Minho rolled his eyes.  
"You know this isn't about revenge."  
No answer. He then helped him up and walked with him back to his room where he lied down on his bed.   
"Do you need anything else?", he asked while Chan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shaking his head. But then-  
"Would you...stay for a while?"

Minho thought he had heard wrong and stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds, motionless. Slowly, Chan opened his eyes, just looking at him, and for this moment, all his anger towards him seemed to be gone, because Minho realized, that Chan had already enough problems in his life, without Minho messing around with it. Ally was probably one of the few things that gave him halt during the day, someone he could rely on. So could he really blame him, reacting like that after knee-jerk-reaction. How could he have been so egoistic? How could he have thought he was having actual problems in his life when he knew Chan, who only managed to make it through the day by smoking his brains out?

Hesitant, he stepped towards the bed and sat on the edge. Chan watched his every movement and the scooted to the side, his arm soon hitting the wall since his bed wasn't as wide as Minhos was. But Minho got the message and lied down next to him, watched him just lying there, his eyes closed and breathing deeply. The pillow smelled like him and Minho brushed over the soft fabric. Looked at Chans big nose, his full lips and his closed eyelids.   
"Do I got something on my face?", he then asked, grinning, and Minho felt caught. His eyes weren't even open.  
"I know you're staring. You always do."  
"Get out of my head then.", Minho replied and felt himself smile for the first time in days. In this hovel of a house, with a sketchy guy in the other room and a fucked up boy in the bed beside him.

Chan opened his eyes a bit and turned to lie on his side. So they were lying there, facing each other, touching with nothing but their eyes and their warm breath hitting the other.  
And Minho decided he would do something he had never been sincere about. He would apologize and for the first time in a while, he would actually mean it.  
"I'm really sorry, Chan."  
"It's not your fault.", he whispered.  
"Yes it is. It's my fault. And that I ignored you at school, too. That was so childish of me. I'm sorry."  
"Stop apologizing.", the other smiled.  
"Excuse me? I'm being serious right now and-"  
"I am too. And I'm also going to sleep now."  
And with that he closed his eyes and ended the conversation. Once again, Minho felt patronized but decided to ignore it. Chan had enough reasons to send him away, and his betraying heart was already beating way too fast, because he didn't. Even though Minho was mad at him. Had been.  
Thoughtfully, he watched his sleeping face and jumped, when Chans hand accidentally brushed his. And even though Minho knew it was wrong and would lead to nothing, he interlocked his fingers with Chans, noticed him smiling and closed his eyes as well.

The next time he woke up, it was already dark outside. He must have slept at least five hours. His mother was going to kill him. Sitting up straight, he rubbed his face with one hand and when he took a glance at the spot next to him, it was empty. A bit disappointed he stood up. Since there was no sign of Chan and Minho really didn't want to encounter his roommate again, he decided to sit on his desk. Spotting the notebook, he pulled it towards him. He had just opened it, when the door was opened and Chan entered.  
"Slept well?", he asked while putting a plate with a steaming pizza on it onto the desk. He put two glasses of water right next to the plate and motioned Minho to help himself.   
"We only had one left, none of us really goes grocery shopping.", he explained and shrugged.  
"Happens to the best.", Minho grinned "And I'm actually not supposed to eat fast food."  
Chan, who had already grabbed his first slice, gave him a confused look. Minho noticed how he had changed into an other shirt. The one he wore before had blood on it.  
"You're not allowed to eat pizza?"  
"I'm on a diet for the Christmas concert. My mom said-"  
"Your mom also said you're not allowed to get a piercing. You don't have to lose weight."  
"Yes I have, or the suit won't look good."  
"Well, then something's wrong with the suit, not with you."  
Minho stopped for a moment. He was right.  
He glanced over to Chan, before pulling the plate close.


	23. Chapter 23

He was full and well rested and wanted to stay in this room with Chan forever. Just lock the door so no one could enter. And no one could get out. Because he wasn't sure if Chan would like this plan as much as he did.   
You could say that it still bothered Minho, not being able to fully see through his actions. How he couldn't understand Chan getting closer to him, just to pull away again. He decided to just enjoy their moment together. One day, he would come to him. Maybe.  
Because he wrote a song for him. About him. That had to mean something, right?

His eyes fell to the notebook on the desk. Chan had pushed the empty plate to the back and was now just sitting there, playing with the empty glass in his hands. He didn't look like he was going to say something anytime soon. Even though Minho knew so little about him and wanted to hear so much from him.

"Your texts are beautiful."  
Chan looked at the notebook before looking back to Minho, letting out a breathy laugh.  
"You just can't contain yourself can you?"  
"What?"  
"This nosiness. You run after me, you go through my stuff…"  
Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
"Well, you left it lying on the floor. You should be thankful I decided to drop by and give it back. I had the right to read them."  
"You didn't. And stop pouting."  
He looked up at the blond, sitting with his legs crossed and grinning at him.  
"You wrote a song for me."  
He stayed quiet for a bit. Then-  
"Yes."  
"Why?"  
"Why not?"  
"You didn't tell me."  
"You didn't tell me when you came to our concert."  
"I didn't have to tell you anything. That was my business."  
"And the song is mine."  
Arguments with Chan seemed to always end up in a circle.  
"You didn't write one for anyone else."  
Chan looked up at the ceiling. It was obvious that he didn't want to have this conversation.  
"So I wrote a song for you because I think you're interesting."  
"Interesting?"  
"Minho, what do you want me to tell you?"  
Not replying, he lowered his gaze. Chan sighed.  
"I told you, I have a girlfriend, Minho."

"Break up with her then.", he kept his eyes down.  
The tension in the room rose dramatically.  
"Did you really just tell me to break up with my girlfriend?" Chan asked, after clearly being taken aback. He laughed like Minho was a little child who just told his older crush to ditch his girlfriend for him.   
Well, basically, that's exactly what he did.   
At the same time, Chan seemed nervous, playing with his lip ring.   
"You know I can't do that."  
Minho looked him in the eyes, determined to not be the first to look away.  
"Why not?"  
Chan stayed quiet.

"Why did you kiss me on Friday?", Minho continued to ask.  
"Can't you get over that?", Chan asked back, irritated.  
"No, I can't. Because I don't understand. You tell me I'm annoying and then you pierce me. You say I don't belong in your world and take me to the old factory. You tell me you have a girlfriend and then you kiss me. It's exhausting…"  
"Then go, if it's too exhausting for you.", Chan murmured.  
"But I don't want to go."  
He stayed silent, continuing to play with his lip ring. There was a quiet clicking sound whenever the metal hit his teeth.   
"I'm not good with this kind of stuff.", he said, almost whispering.  
"With what?"  
"People. I can't…it's the anxiety, you know."  
Minho barely dared to breath. How long had he wished for Chan to talk about himself. That he would let him look behind his facade. He knew that one wrong word, would make Chan go back into his shell.

"It works with Ally, doesn't it?"  
"Why do you keep asking about Ally?"  
"Why not?"  
Chan brushed through his hair, looking distressed.  
"She...makes it pretty easy for me. She also doesn't ask as much."   
He had started playing with the hem of his shirt, pulling on loose strings.

"So you want me to leave you alone?"  
One string had been ripped off in his frantic pulling and Chan decided to act like we was insepcting it. His whole body was tense.  
"That's not what I meant. I…everytime you're with me I…I remember what it was like when I still lived with my parents and my siblings…what it was like when everything was…fine and I remember how I lost all of that and…I…fuck!"  
He turned around and brushed over his eyes with the back of his hands. Shocked, Minho stared at his back. Hesitant, he got up, went over to the bed and kneeled next to Chan on the mattress. Gently, he put a hand on his shoulder. Chan flinched, his body immediately stiffening. Minho felt him shaking.  
  
"I fucked my whole life up. I keep on hurting people. I try to protect them but I always end up hurting everyone. So I push them away. It's better that way. It's easier."  
Minho stayed quiet, while Chan tried to calm his breathing, rubbing his eyes once more before brushing through his hair. He then chuckles quietly while still sniffling.  
"I guess you’re not so different from me after all. With your whole fitting-in facade. You know what I mean.-"  
He knew _exactly_ what he meant.   
How he was always holding back, always trying to be polite and always shutting up whenever he wanted to say something. Minho felt he had never been himself in his entire life.   
And he was sick of it.  
  
"I can't change the past. Neither can you. If you don't want to talk about the past that's fine. But don't…punish me for it."  
He sniffled again.  
"Punish?", he then asked, still not turning around.  
"Stop ignoring me. I don't want to keep running after you."  
"Then what do you want?"  
"How about a friend?"

Minho pulled his hand back when Chan decided to turn around and look at him with slightly red eyes.  
"A...why me? You've got enough friends already."  
"I...no, I don't. I don't have a single friend here. I can't explain it Chan, it's just…I trust you."  
He laughed bitterly.  
"Look at me. Look at my friends, my life. You can't trust me."  
"If that's true I'll figure it out soon enough."  
"And I'm going to hurt you."  
"You already did. And I'm still here."

Chan lowered his gaze, breaking the eye contact that Minho had held the whole time. For a moment it was quiet, only the noise of the tv coming throught he closed door.  
"I'm sorry."  
"What?"  
"I didn't mean to hurt you."  
Minho wanted to touch him, hug him, to show that it was alright. That it was alright if he was the one that hurt him. But he didn't.  
"It's okay."

"Well…Ally wanted to drop by later."  
Great.  
"Got it. I'm already gone. I'm grounded anyways."  
"You are?"  
"Caroline told my mom about how I hang out with criminal junkies. She didn't like that."  
Chan nervously started rubbing his forearms at his choice of words. Minho pressed his lips together. Like usual - one wrong word was enough…  
"Sorry.", he said and kept himself from sighing.  
"It's okay. It's true."  
"No it's not. You're not a criminal. And even if you were, it's not what defines you.", he quickly added upon noticing that Chan wanted to say something.   
When he finally looked at him he smiled at him, shyly. An expression he had never shown him.

"Okay, I guess I'm gonna leave. What's the fastest way to the bus station from here?", he then asked after Chan hadn't said anything anymore.  
"You're not here with the car?"  
He shook his head.  
"I came right after school."  
"So you walked here from the bus station?"  
"How else was I supposed to get here?", he asked, rolling his eyes because Chan sounded so accusing again.  
"Didn't I tell you that - whatever, forget it. You don't listen anyway. I'll take you there, it's not that far."  
"You can just tell me where to go.", Minho replied, irritated, even though he was happy to prolong the goodbye between them. But he also didn't want to admit another weakness to Chan. He was fine on his own.

But Chan only shook his head, resigned, and made his way towards the front door. The tv was still running in the living room and there were empty pizza boxes and beer cans on the ground, one of them spilling the rest liquid on the carpet. Disgusted, Chan looked away.   
"I definetely need to get my own place….", he murmured, more to himself, and then exited the house.

It was 8:30pm when Minho unlocked the door to his home. The lights were on, so his mother was already there. He gulped, taking a last look at the street behind him. He would have loved to walk back to the bus station, back to Chan. Too much happened today for him to have the energy to have an argument with his mother. Chan and him had talked. Really talked, without fighting. They had slept in the same bed, Minho had taken care of his wounds (more or less). He had seen where he lived, where he slept. Got to know the real him a little better. The real Chan, who had turned cold and wary because of everything he went through.

And right now, he was probably greeting Ally, pressing his lips onto hers, with he piercing that was never cold thanks to the warmth of his body. Minho stomach contracted and for the first time in his life he felt real jealousy. Painful, gnawing jealousy that constantly made him think about the blond musician, made him count the hours until he would see him again. He made a tortured face and closed the door behind him.

"Where were you?"  
"Out."  
Ms. Lee stood in the door frame of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. She had an exhausting day and actually expected to find Mino at the piano when she got home. Instead, the house was empty and silent.  
"Out? You're grounded, if you remember."  
"I know."  
Tired, Minho pushed past his mother into the kitchen and got himself a cup of water. He leaned against the counter and Ms. Lee couldn't help but notice her son looking unwell. Worn out.   
But she wasn't intending on further thinking about when she and her son last sat on the dining table together, talking about something else other than scores and piano lessons. Minho was old enough to know what was important in life. That's what Ms. Lee had thought, until her son had stopped following the rules and started to hang out with some underclass scum.  
"You know? How dare you talk to me like that? Where were you?"  
Minho hesitated, but then answered. There was no point in trying to win against his mother. He had always and would always lose.  
"At Christophers."  
"Christopher? That criminal good-for-nothing?"  
"He's neither a good-for-nothing, nor is he a criminal. He's in my music class and raps in a band."  
"And he lives in Merrylands and has a drug-addiction. And stop talking like that. Have I not made myself clear? I forbid you any kind of contact to this boy. What has gotten into you? You will go to your room now and you won't leave the house for the rest of the weekend. Except for meals and piano practice I don't want to see you down here again. And you're grounded until you've come to your senses. And if you ever - _ever_ talk back to me, you will face the consequences."

Minho left the kitchen without another word and made his way upstairs. Tears were prickling in his eyes and he gulped. It wasn't fair. Wherever he went, there were problems waiting for him. And still…somehow him and Chan were real friends now. Minho wasn't sure when or how that happened, if you could be friends with someone you kissed, and he didn't know if Chan wouldn't just go back into his shell again. And the last thing he knew was what kind of influence his and Chans relationship would have on his future, but that didn't matter.   
Nothing mattered. As long as he could be with Chan, talk to him, see him.  
With that, he forgot about Caroline, his mother and his basically non-existent father. The only thing important right now was the feeling he had when he was with Chan. And that was good.


	24. Chapter 24

He didn't hear anything from Chan over the weekend. Of course not. He couldn't expect him to ring his doorbell to take him to some party. Which probably was better that way, or else his mother would call the police. Ms. Lee had stopped talking to her son, so Minho felt more lonely in the big white house than ever before. When she had told him on Sunday morning to answer the phone because Mr. Lee was calling, Minhos mood improved only a bit. For just a moment he had thought that his father was calling him because he missed his son.

"Hi Dad, how are you? How was your business trip?" He took the phone and walked back to his room with it, followed by the criticising eyes of his mother.  
"Minho I'm not calling to talk about my business trip with you. Your mother has told me that you are having contact with some wannabe-gangster. Can you explain that?"  
Minho stayed quiet for a moment. He should have guessed it, his father had only called two times these past few weeks and none of the conversations have been exceedingly long. It was naive, expecting that we would call just to hear some news about his life.  
"He's not a wannabe-gangster. He's a musician."  
"Yes, I know, he's in some underground rap group. Minho, your mother and I are both lawyers. Even though criminal law isn't our speciality, we both have seen enough of these cases. If your mother thinks that he has bad influence on you, then there's probably a reason for that. We don't want you to get involved in anything. We know how this happens."   
"How what happens?", Minho asked and forced himself not to grab the phone so hard until the plastic shell cracked.  
"Minho, please do not make me teach you a lesson over the phone. We've always been very careful about you only coming in contact with decent people. This… _interest_ for this Christian won't lead anywhere. We want to protect you."  
"Christopher.", he corrected his father.  
"Excuse me?"  
"His name is Christopher."  
"It doesn't matter what the boys name is. I certainly agree with your mother to keep you away from him. Do you understand?"  
"Yes, father."  
"Good. I will call again."  
"Bye."

Monday, Minho was almost relieved to be able to escape the tension in his house. But it wasn't much better in school. It wasn't surprising that Minho had managed to scare away almost all of his new acquaintances. Caroline was pissed off and her cheerleader friends were of course on her side. Toby was glad he got rid of his competition and most of the dance club ignored him. Felix was the only one who still talked to him and greeted him in the hallways. But Minho understood that he didn't want to take it too far, scared of what Caroline might do.   
He never was the type of person that depended on others, but he liked keeping people around to make it easier for himself, so he wouldn't have to face any unnecessary problems. But if he was being really honest with himself, being alone most of the time wasn't that bad. People finally left him alone.

But something was missing.  
  
Chan was missing. He was probably at home, or with Ally, minding his own business. Minho should learn not to depend his happiness on him.   
So he spend his lunch-breaks alone at the table Chan usually sat at and read in 'The Lord of the Flies'.   
He could hear Carolines fake laughter and the swim-teams bad jokes. And when he looked up one time, he was sure he caught Jenna giving him a sorry look. He sighed, closed the book and left the canteen.

The next day wasn't much better, until he saw Chans familiar face in music class. Minho almost didn't recognize him when he still had his head turned around, only showing his, not white-blond but now mint-green hair. Combined with the tattoos and the piercings, he looked like a real punk now. The wounds on his face hadn't fully healed and he kind of looked more miserable than usual. Minho has never been happier, seeing a human being.

"How are you?", he asked and tried not to be a push over. If there was something he had learned last weekend, then it was the fact that Chan was incredibly wary when in came to physical and emotional closeness.  
"Awesome, isn't that obvious?", the ironic tone in his voice was clear, but there was no malice in his voice.  
"Did your roommate say anything after I left?"   
Chan furrowed his eyebrows, glancing over at him.  
"What was he supposed to say? We live in the same house, we don't live together."  
Then he sighed and shrugged.  
"Doesn't matter anymore. Ally found a cheap place we could move into."  
"Cool. Are you going to book club?"  
Chan shook his head.  
"I'm working. If the whole thing with the apartment works I have to get a better job anyway."  
Minho watched their teacher place his newspaper on his desk and put his coffee next to it.  
"Are you gonna take me with you?"  
"Where to?"  
"Maccas."  
This was the first time he smiled today.  
"And your diet?"  
"Fuck it."

Not only did he skip book club, but also his piano lesson. He could play the piece in his sleep anyway and he also already knew his mother would scold him for something. So he sat down at a small table and watched Chan take orders, put away trays and cleaning the tables. It wasn't busy, so after about an hour, he sat down across from Minho. He put away the history book he was reading in.  
"Don't you have to go home soon?"   
Minho shook his head. It didn't matter when he got home. His mother would freak out anyway.  
"Then do you wanna explain to me what about this place is better than your room?"  
Minho knew the answer and he knew that Chan also did. So the rapper rolled his eyes.  
"You're crazy, really. Ally is gonna be here soon, just so you know." Then he looked around, to see if someone was watching them. He pulled his hand from under the table where he had kept it the whole time and placed a sundae on the closed history book.  
"Here. I'll have to get back to work."  
With that, he stood up and disappeared behind the register. Smiling, Minho ate his icecream.

Another hour went by when the doors to the restaurant opened and Ally entered, with a bored expression as always. Her bright red hair and tight pants pulled all the attention to her. Chan smiled upon noticing her and gestured for her to wait a bit. Minho watched her look around, before her eyes stopped at his face. She raised one eyebrow, but didn't show any other sign of recognizing him. A few moments later, Chan appeared, having changed into his usual clothes and greeted his girlfriend with a kiss. A bit embarrassed, but also happy, he looked over to Minho and waved him goodbye. Minho let his head slowly sink onto the cool tabletop and sighed.

In hindsight, it probably would have been better if he hadn't come home that evening. He had been expecting another yelling-session by his mother, when he saw her car parked in the driveway, but it stayed quiet when he unlocked the door. He didn't even know himself, why he disobeyed his mother again. He didn't know why he suddenly couldn't take the feeling of loneliness and indifference anymore, where this almost physical uncomfortableness came from whenever he thought about his fake-perfect family.  
"Minho!"  
His mothers voice was sharp and he abandoned the hopes of being able to secretly make it to his room.  
Instead, he stepped into the kitchen, hands buried in his pockets and avoided looking at her eyes.  
Which lead to seeing his mothers movement too late, too late to turn away when she raised her hand and hit him flat across the cheek. It took a moment for Minho to realize what just happened and for the pain to make itself present. His stinging face caused tears to appear in his eyes and almost robotically, he put his palm on his hot cheek. Never once in his life someone had raised his hand against him.  
"Go to your room.", was his mothers only reaction and Minho wordlessly turned around and stumbled up the stairs. He felt himself enter his bubble when he closed the door to his room behind him, his hand still lying on the pulsating left side of his face.

For the first time since he lived in this house, he locked the door and went into the bathroom. His cheek was red and slightly swollen. Only now he saw the tears running down his face in his reflection, collecting on his chin and then drop into the sink. When had everything gotten out of control?  
Minho knew the answer.  
When he saw Chan for the first time, sitting on that table in the canteen. He should have marked that day in a calendar.

He noticed people staring at him the next day, of course. His cheek was still swollen and there was a thin blue-green shadow under his eye.  
"You and the freak are perfect for eachother now!", he heard Toby yell when he put his books into his locker.  
He probably shouldn't expect anything better. It wasn't too bad, sitting alone at lunch. Of course he could have sat with another group of people, maybe someone from book club. But he wasn't interested. He knew that the entire grade was gossiping about how he was the new kid that had made it into the top-clique on his first day, just to get kicked out a few weeks later.

"Why are you sitting here all alone? And what happened to your face?"  
Chan seemed to have been on his way to his usual spot under the trees when he spotted Minho. His sentence started casual, then his voice got louder, concerned.  
"I'm sick of people."  
Chan ignored him, sitting down next to him and looking at his face.  
"Why do you have a black eye?"  
"I don't."  
"Minho."  
He sighed, then put his fork to the side.  
"My mother didn't like that I skipped piano yesterday."  
"She hit you?", he sounded unusually upset.  
"Stop staring at me. It's not that bad."  
Minhos voice shook a little, but he kept it together. He didn't want to whine in front of Chan, who had been through significantly worse, without complaining once. Not when his face still showed signs of Tobys abuse.  
That's not what he wanted. He didn't want him to feel sorry for him. How come the first time he had shown him actual, real emotions was when he was pitying him?   
"It's not? What do you mean 'it's not'? She can't just-"   
"I don't need your compassion!", Minho snarled. That came out the wrong way. Expressing himself was still new territory. He just didn't want Chan to see him like this. Minho grabbed his tray and put it away to go to his PE class.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, alright? So she…hit you for the first time yesterday?"  
Chan had caught up to him at the exit and had grabbed his wrist.  
"Yes.", Minho replied shortly.  
"Fuck."  
"It's fine.", he replied shortly.  
Chan looked angry, but didn't say anything more and Minho preferred to look the other way.  
"Are you in the mood for the old factory tonight?"  
Minho blinked. He had been so focused on trying not to cry at the thought of having to return back home today that he almost hadn't heard Chans proposition. Should he go? After what happened the last time they were up there? He still didn't know what he and Chan were. Actual friends? Even though he knew about his feelings? At least a little bit?  
"Okay.", was the only thing he said.  
He couldn't stay away from Chan. He had already given up his home for him. He realized that, the moment Chan let go of his wrist and walked to his next class. He had gone a few steps before turning around once more.  
"I'll pick you up at 8pm."  
He had already turned around when Minho nodded.

He had given up his home. But for what?


	25. Chapter 25

The view from the factory was just as breathtaking as he remembered, when Minho stood on the edge of the roof and looked at the horizon. Some things never fade. His gaze shifted downwards and once again with a beating heart and an anxious feeling, he wondered how long it would take to reach the ground. He had heard somewhere that you wouldn't even feel the impact.  
"If you really plan on jumping, do it when I'm not around! This is the only place where I can still live in peace!", Chan jokingly called over.  
"Idiot!", Minho yelled back and stepped away from the edge towards Chan, who sat on the concrete block lighting a joint.   
Next to him stood a bottle of whiskey, which he had carefully hidden under the drivers seat on their way here, but no police control had stopped them and no one would find them up here. Neither the police, nor Minhos mother. If she had even noticed that her son wasn't in his room anymore. He had sneaked out of the open backdoor, when Chan had stopped in front of the neighbors house without turning the engine off.

He sat there with his legs crossed on the warm concrete and offered Minho the bottle. The golden liquid glimmered in the evening sun.  
Minho smelled it once and made a disgusted face. The smell itself burnt in his nose.  
"You drink _that_?", he asked and put the bottle down again.  
"Oh yeah, you don't drink alcohol. Well, usually I don't, but I thought it was appropriate."  
They stayed quiet for awhile, thanks to Chan next to him Minho didn't feel too cold and he enjoyed not having to talk. He had been a bit scared of this new meet up - the first of it's kind had ended badly for him. Nothing he wanted to repeat. But this time, everything was fine, maybe because they knew eachother better. The sweet scent of the weed filled the air around them.  
  
"Ally's pregnant."  
  
A few seconds. Maybe two? It wouldn't take longer to hit the with weeds overgrown asphalt beneath them. No one would find him there. Not there, behind the factory. Some day, in a few years, when the old buildings will get torn down, then maybe. Until then his mother would have probably found a new man and a new trophy-child, the old one replaced, it was broken anyway.

"I'm dropping out of school. I'm gonna have to work full time. I…didn't tell my parents. I can't burden them with this."

School. Yeah, that would be over, too. And all this money paid for a private piano teacher - wasted. That's just too bad.   
Maybe he could play a fitting piece at the Christmas concert, Liszt' 'Totentanz' for example.   
And if he'd then disappear from one day to the other, then the newspapers would have a great headline.

"And Triple X is over, too. Ian is an idiot and the others are either too high to practice or just messing around."  
Chan took another drag and blew out round smoke rings. The smoke faded and disappeared in the night. Oh, to be a smoke ring, Minho thought.   
And then he decided to taste the whiskey.

"Don't you have anything to say for once?", Chan asked amused after a few seconds. He looked at him, grinning, but it didn't quiet reach his eyes.  
"Uh…cool, the thing with the baby? Sucks that you're dropping out. And sorry, because of Triple X."  
It hurt less than he thought. Somehow there was nothing there. Nothing at all. Just like it used to be.   
The whiskey felt warm in his throat and left a tingling sensation under his skin.  
"Cool? I honestly expected you to freak out."  
Freaking out wouldn't bring Triple X back. Freaking out wouldn't solve his money problems. Freaking out wouldn't make that baby disappear. Okay, maybe he shouldn't think like this. It wasn't the babys fault.  
"Are you...happy?"  
"Happy?", Chan repeated "I…don't know. I mean, the time's not ideal right now but…fuck, that's a human right there that I…it's weird, I guess I don't…I don't know."  
He flicked the joint away.  
"Can you imagine that? Me, as a dad? Because I can't. At least not right now…but it's my responsibility now."   
Minho stayed silent. Chan didn't sound happy either. Excited, maybe?  
"It's okay. I love Ally. We'll move in together, we're going to marry, raise the child…"  
He sounded like he was counting down chores he had to do.  
"Marry?", Minho asked and took another sip.  
"Sure. The baby needs a real family. I don't have money for rings though, so I'll have to come up with something. Maybe you could play something on our wedding. I have a keyboard we could use. Oh, right, you don't like keyboards. Then I'll just steal the piano from school."

Chan did sound excited. Really excited. Though, it seemed to be the kind of excited where you don't know whether you're actually happy or just scared.   
And Minho understood, he understood why he might be scared. Scared of failing. Scared of having to give up everything in order to raise a child, without blaming the child for it.   
Minho understood. But he didn't want to hear about the baby anymore. He didn't want to hear about a future that he clearly wasn't a part of.

  
"Do you think I'll be fine?"  
Minho didn't answer. This whole situation should have knocked the breath out of him, but there was nothing.   
Of course he would. He would be absolutely fine. But Minho shouldn't care about that anymore.   
He had lost Chan. Lost him before ever having him.   
And now he would probably never see him again. If he wouldn't come back then…well. There would be a new loner at Newtown High. Maybe it was contagious.

"I feel dizzy."  
Chan looked at him while Minho lied down, feeling like all the stars above were crashing down on them.  
"Why do you - oh, _wow_. You destroyed half a bottle of JD in just twenty minutes. How do you wanna explain that kind of hangover to your mom.", he asked laughing and gently took the bottle from his hands.  
"Why did you tell me this?"  
"What?"  
"About the baby, about Ally. I would have expected that one day, you just wouldn't show up at school anymore. Puff, gone. Without an explanation."  
It was silent for a bit, only the noise of the traffic far away.  
"I've given up on telling people about my problems. Most of them don't listen anyway. "  
"How do you wanna know?"  
Chan laughed in disbelieve.   
"Are you kidding me? Do you think anyone cared when my friends started bullying me? Do you think a single teacher would have had the idea to ask why I always looked like I got run over by a truck? Do you think my parents tried to contact me once after I moved out with sixteen? I'm a hopeless case, Minho. People have given up on me and it's my fault. What do you want me to do, whine about how horrible my life is that I fucked up myself? I wanted to become a musician, Min. I wanted to work for my dreams and I was ready to give it all up all over again for this dream! But I guess that wasn't meant to be. Life's just not for everyone.", heavily breathing he turned away from Minho. His breathing was the only thing they could hear right now.

Minho sat back up again. He still didn't feel anything, his movements were a bit uncoordinated when he started brushing through Chans thick curls.   
"Maybe it's not.", he murmured.  
Chan scoffed.  
"But it's for you. You made it until here, even though all this shit happened to you, and you can make it even farther. You should live your life for you. Not for anyone else."  
He kept combing through his hair, trying to feel something. Anything.

"Why couldn't you have come here earlier?", Chan eventually wondered "It would have been so different. I wouldn't be skipping school and get good grades. Maybe I could've been homecoming king or something. You could have been my personal therapist or something."  
"Good to know that's the only thing I'm good for. And you'd never become homecoming king with that hairstyle."  
They both chuckled. Minho took his hand away and Chan turned around again.  
  
"You're right, though, I can still make music. I'm gonna be a real rockstar. Do you think that will work with the child?"  
"Sure. Have some more kids,  illegitimate , and get divorced five times. The ultimate rockstar."  
Minho didn't know how he could react like this. So calm and nonchalant, when everything inside him was breaking down and leaving nothing.  
"Sounds like a plan."  
"You're still an idiot, Chan. A real idiot."  
"And you're drunk. I'm gonna get you home."

Minho really was drunk. Maybe that's why he felt empty. He couldn't walk straight anymore, and he would have fallen down the stairs if Chan hadn't put an arm around his waist to basically drag him to the car, and not without nagging.  
"God, I shouldn't have brought the whiskey. Why did you drink so much if you can't handle it?", he groaned while helping Minho slide onto the passenger seat.  
"Oh yeah, because you're such a goody-two-shoes!", Minho murmured, his tongue feeling heavy.  
Chan didn't answer and just sat behind the steering wheel, driving to Minhos house.

Arriving there, everything was dark. Maybe his mother hadn't even noticed that he had sneaked out.  
"Are you good?", Chan asked worried, when Minho almost fell out of the car and kneeled on the asphalt.  
"I'm go - gooey…good."  
Chan rolled his eyes and got out of the car, helping Minho up and getting him to the front door.  
"Where are your keys?"  
Minho searched his pockets for the key and then tried putting it in the keyhole.  
"Doesn fit!", he yelled surprised.  
"Shh. What do you mean it doesn't fit? Give it to me.", Chan said nervously and tried it himself.  
"There's a key in the lock. On the other side."  
"What? Why?", Minho asked confused.  
"Probably so you have to ring the bell when you get home. I guess your mother is just waiting for you to come home to teach you the lesson of the decade. Pretty smart, actually."  
"Pfff! I'm not doin' that!"  
"Then how do you wanna get inside?"  
"I don't! I'll stay here. I'll…wait for a bus and then I'll go downtown! Hah!"  
"Min, it's 12:30am. There are no buses right now."  
"Then I'll sleep in the garden. We have a ham-hammock. Reaaally cool.", he giggled.  
Chan took a desperate glance up in the sky before taking the keys and turning both of them around.  
"What're you doin'?"  
"We'll go to my place. You can't sleep in your garden completely wasted. And please don't puke in my car."  
"M'kay! But only because you asked so nicely!", Minho cheered and they got back into the car.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are.  
> This is gonna be the last chapter of this fanfiction with an epilogue following. I want to thank everyone who's been reading and supporting this fanfiction, leaving kudos and comments. It was thanks to you that I kept being motivated to finish this work. Special thanks go out to my beta reader *finger guns*  
> I am also incredibly thankful to all the people who considered to stop reading this fanfiction due to me being a horrible person and not writing an actual happy ending, but didn't. You are very, very much appreciated.   
> Since this is my first fanfiction I completely understand if someone feels like I messed the storyline up or wrote some people 'out of character'. I know a lot of people didn't like the way this ff was going and I am incredibly thankful that you still kept reading, since I had planned the ending from the very beginning and did not want to change it. I'm going to be honest with you, I am also not 100 percent happy with how it turned out, mainly focused on my writing skills, but I hope you could enjoy it anyway.

"Where's your roomie?", Minho whispered when they stopped in front of Chans home. They had to pull over three times on their way here, because of Minho having to puke. Chan had simply put an arm on his back every time and waited, until he leaned back in his seat and signaled him to keep driving. With every stop, Minho felt better.  
"I don't know, out somewhere. Probably in a strip club."  
"In a sti-strip club?"  
The words still wouldn't come out right. Minho felt like there were a thousand thoughts running through his head wanting to come out all at once, but when he tried to speak, none of them did.  
"Yes, a strip club. Now let's go to the bath, you smell like a whole bar."  
"Like the 'Soda Factory'?", Minho giggled while Chan unlocked the door and let him enter the stuffy house.  
"Pretty much.", he murmured.  
"Did you just call me pretty?"  
Surprised, Chan turned away from the door and looked at Minho who had turned around and was smiling at him like a thousand spotlights.  
"What? No, I didn-"  
"It's okay, I know I'm pretty. But people don' want me to say it, they want you to stay stumble…humble."  
He nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had just dropped the biggest wisdom-bomb of the century. Chan only chuckled.  
"Sure."  
  
They passed the living room where empty pizza boxes, plates and cups found their place, and telling by the smell, it were the same when Minho last visited. Another wave of nausea overcame him, but he successfully held back. While he stumbled into the bath, Chan rummaged through the mess in the kitchen, looking for a clean cup.  
He filled it with water and then went back to find Minho sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with his head in his hands.  
"Are you feeling better?", Chan asked and leaned in the doorframe.  
"Mhm.", Minho groaned "Is it always like this after drinking? Why would you do that?"  
"Because usually, you don't chuck it all down in one go. Here, drink it."  
Tired, he took a sip of the water. It felt good, tasting something else than your own stomach content. Drinking the water honestly felt like refreshing his mind.  
Chan quickly searched through one of the cabinets, before pulling out a new toothbrush wrapped in plastic.  
"Here, I always have some for when Ally stays over."  
Minho nodded and brushed his teeth, leaning his head against the mirror above the sink, while Chan waited for him in the hallway.  
"I wanna sleep.", he murmured after disposing of the toothbrush.  
"I know. Come on."  
Sighing, he went after Chan across the hall into his room. It looked the exact same as it did last time. Minho took of his shoes and almost fell asleep doing so.

Later on, he couldn't really remember that night.  
What had made him and Chan kiss? For the second time.  
Who had instigated it? Was it him? He didn't know. Only blurry pictures remained, Chans hand pressed to his neck, a body on top of his own. Clothes falling to the floor, the bed that smelled so much like Chan, almost like he himself.  
The sex itself was a blur. That's not how he had imagined his first time - drunk, with a boy in a relationship, in the small room of a disgusting house. He was sure that he didn't come - because he would remember that, right? - but he remembered Chans warm skin on his, the uncoordinated kisses, the low moaning…he remembered that.  
Very well. Better than he wanted.

And even though it was awkward and not really enjoyable, being this close to Chan was so overwhelming that it took his breath away. The world could have collapsed the around him, he wouldn't have moved an inch. Away from this bed, away from Chan. Has he not been still wondering whether he actually meant something to him or not, just a few days ago? On the other side…did he _now_ mean something to him?

When he woke up hours later, curled up on Chans side, that was the first thing that came to his mind. Did he mean something to him? Or was yesterday a mistake? A stupid, drunk mistake. He knew that Chan would probably answer that with a confident yes. And of course it was a mistake. But not one he regretted.  
He raised his head a bit and looked at Chans sleeping figure for the last time. His lips slightly parted, one tattooed arm on his face. Minho took a deep breath, trying to savor his scent, a scent he knew he would miss from today on. Then he carefully raised the blanket and got up, put his clothes back on and exited the room. As quiet as possible, he snuck to the front door and left, with one last look back.  
Then he ran all they way to the bus station through the awakening Merrylands.

The emptiness inside of him was still there. He had hoped that now at least the pain of farewell would come. Maybe even a fight with Chan, something that would make it easier for him to deal with this. But there was nothing. As sudden as Chan had appeared in his life, as sudden Minho was now disappearing from his. Words would have made everything worse. And even though Minho wanted to run back to him, get in bed with him and wait for him to wake up to somehow grasp hold of the situation - he knew it was better this way.  
It was easier for Chan and also easier for himself.  
_He didn't want him._  
He wanted Ally, he wanted to get away and out of school. There was no place for Minho in that plan. The realization seemed to make his world appear a bit more grey.

"I could sue him, you know. You drank and I know _he_ made you. You're seventeen, Minho, what you did is against the law! Where were you last night?"  
"Out."  
"Stop talking to me like that. I got off work for the next two weeks because of you. I'll bring you to school and I will pick you up. You skipping your piano lesson is gonna be a one time - _a one time_ occurrence. I'll let your father know about this. For Christs sake." Ms. Lee shook her head. "What has gotten into you? I can understand your… _interest_ in some young, unusual guy, but if this is supposed to be some late teenage-rebellion then you have taken it too far. I will be missing important meetings because I'll have to play guard-dog for my son. This is very uncomfortable. And now go to your room, I don't want to see you for the rest of the day, you look like death. God, I think I'm getting a migraine…"  
Minho watched his mother disappear in the bathroom to take some pills. He turned on his heel and went to his room.  
Breathing was so hard right now. As if there was something in his throat, stopping him from breathing. He opened the window, greedily inhaling the warm morning air.  
Maybe cutting Chan out of his life was the right decision. All this trouble, all this stress…if he kept telling himself that, maybe he'd believe it one day.  
And until then he had to learn how to deal with the fact that there was more to life than the monotony he had experienced until now.

Chan stopped coming to school. From one day to the other and it was like the boy with the dyed hair, piercings and the passion for music had never existed. He didn't leave an empty slot. No one missed him. On the contrary, the few people who noticed his absence made their happiness about it very clear. Rumors about him being in jail, in rehab or on the run were quick to spread. Only after he'd been spotted multiple times at his workplace, people realized that he moved in with his girlfriend and now had to make money. For the students of Newtown High this was just another proof of Chans incompetence.

Minho drowned the gossiping out, avoided the fast-food restaurant, empty parking lots and the 'Soda Factory.'  
The evening of the Christmas concert was something he was looking forward to and feared at the same time. He really wanted to get to see something else than his school building and the walls of his room. His mother had stayed true to her words and not let him leave the house alone. On the other side, he didn't know how to sit down and play the piano in front of all the people that have been avoiding him more than ever the past few days. He was the new Chan. The person no one wanted to sit next to in class. The person they turned their backs on as soon as he passed by. He had underestimated the power of High School cliques. Even the people who have never been close to being considered 'cool' didn't approached him. Nobody wanted contact to someone who had been disowned by Caroline and Toby.

Well not _nobody_ , actually.  
Felix sometimes sat with him, but he rejected him. He didn‘t want him to get involved. Didn‘t want the same things to happen to him. But Felix kept coming back and it broke Minhos heart to send him away. To yell at him in front of everyone, telling him to leave him alone.  
He didn't want to do the same things, Chan had done to him.

So Minho was always alone. Always.  
And for the first time, he understood why Chan found solace in a world of drugs and alcohol. Why he didn't show his emotions anymore, why he became so quiet. Why he hid his real self behind a wall to protect himself.  
Minho felt like he was falling, with no one to catch him. No family, no friends.  
He caught himself staring out of the window for hours, wishing he was somewhere else. He stopped talking to people and he stopped acting nice. And he felt so much better that way.

So now he sat on the grand piano in the auditorium that had been decorated for Christmas. The sun was still shining outside and the audience consisted of whispering students, parents and teachers. He could feel them staring, while he sat there his gaze focused on his scores in front of him and his lips pressed together. His shaking fingers hovered over the keys. Eventually he closed his eyes to forget about his mother sitting in the first row and started playing Mozart.

He tried to forget that this was the only time his mother actually looked at him. That she had banned all memories of Chan and now acted like nothing ever happened.  
That he missed Chan so much it hurt.

The concert went well. No booing from the audience, and he finally managed to get away from his mother, who had been talking to one of his teacher for the last thirty minutes about how talented he was. He went to the backside of the auditorium where some younger students had met up to secretly smoke together. He couldn't sit down because his mother would freak out if there'd be any spots on his suit, but at least he escaped the stuffy air and the eyes of his mother.

"I knew you would come out at one point. You were good."  
Minho turned around. His brain needed a moment to understand that he really stood in front of him. Chan.  
"What are you doing here?", he asked and didn't know if he should be happy or if he should yell at him.  
He wore his leatherjacket again, the green in his hair had faded and of course there was a cigarette between his lips.  
"I wanted to listen to you play. But I see you still don't play with all your heart.", he grinned but Minho didn't even manage to smile. Was all of this a joke? Was all of this some sick fucking prank someone pulled on him?  
"So you just left.", Chan continued. "I thought that was my thing."  
"You shouldn't be here.", Minho deadpanned.  
"I shouldn't? Huh, maybe you're right. And now?"  
"What do you want?"  
"I want to apologize."  
"Spare me. How's Ally?"  
Chans expression dropped. He hesitated.

"She lied to me.", he then eventually said and took a drag from his cigarette.  
"What?"  
"She lied to me about the baby. She was never pregnant. Should‘ve guesses it, she always had a thing for talking shit. So I broke up with her.", Chans voice shook. He was obviously trying not to show how upset he was. And Minho wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh so loud everyone on campus would hear him. His life had turned into an absolute shit show and Chan was the moderator.   
"That‘s why I came back. To properly say goodbye to my parents. And to see you again."  
Minho felt his heart ache. He tried not to let it show, even though these news were more shocking than the previous ones. He was still trying to hold back a smile. He wasn't actually happy, he just couldn't help it. Did that make him a horrible person?  
„Say goodbye?“, he asked instead.  
Chan nodded.   
„I‘m going to Seoul. I've been invited to join a project with two other guys. If we get lucky, we might even get signed to an agency. And then you‘ll have to come to my actual concerts in big venues and stuff. I‘ll even get you a backstage ticket.“  
The smile was back on Chans face but he looked tortured. Minho took a deep breath. He wanted to hug him, to kiss him to take his hand and runaway with him. But he didn't.  
He wasn't gonna get hurt again. Not this time.  
"Okay. So you wanted to apologize and now you're really leaving. Anything else?"  
Chan furrowed his eyebrows.  
"Listen, you're the one who told me to live my own life, not anyone elses. To be honest, I miss your stalking a bit."  
"God, Chan stop it already!"

The smile disappeared again and he looked confused, even a bit hurt.  
"What are you talking about? What should I stop with?"  
"Acting as if nothing happened! Just go, you know as well as me that I'm the last thing you need in your life right now. You finally managed to get away from all this shit, you talked to your parents and you have an offer in a country where you can start from zero. You ditched Ally and now you think you can just come back to me. I'm just a leftover that will forever remind you that this new life also isn't perfect. It's better if we don't see eachother again."  
"What?", he sounded angry. Really angry, for the first time but Minho stayed silent. He had balled his hands into fists and he was determined not to cry. Chan had no right to leave and enter his life as he pleases.  
"Are you serious?", he asked and Minho nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line.  
Chan scoffed and put his cigarette out with his boots. When he looked up again, there were no emotions left on his face. All the anger seemed to have vanished.  
"You know I was going to wait for you. I realized some stuff after moving in with Ally. I realized that I am truly happy when you're with me, that I feel like I am more than just my past when you're there and I was going to wait. Until you could come with - forget it."

And suddenly he was Christopher again. Christopher, the ignorant stranger who didn't even think about looking at him while talking to him. When he turned around to leave, Minho didn't say anything, even though there were a thousand things he wanted to say. But he stayed quiet.  
Chan had to let go of the past. And Minho was a part of that.


	27. Epilogue

The concert was on the last day of school before Christmas break started. Minho was looking forward to the days alone at home, with his mother finally working again and no people bothering him at school.   
In January they flew to Gimpo to celebrate Korean New Year with their family. Minhos aunts, uncles and grandparents didn't know anything about his escapades. Never would his mother have told them about it and turned herself into an embarrassment. Meaning Minho could enjoy his time there without being the problem child. Him and his cousins went out a lot, spending time in the snowy city. He met his friends again and already dreaded the feeling of knowing he had to leave them again. He wished he could just stay here.   
Minho also never told anyone about what had happened. Not even Hyunjin. He thought that was something between only him and Chan. Everytime his family asked how Australia was and if he had found a lot of friends, he changed the subject. Faking it still came way too easy to him.

So in February, he went back to Sydney. He studied a lot, creating an excuse as to why he wasn't leaving the house anymore. He often wondered whether Chan had really left for Seoul or not. Only he would be determined enough to leave everything behind and go to another country for a small chance of achieving his dream. Was he there right now? Was he recording songs in a real studio? Or did his plans fail and he now worked in another fast-food restaurant in Seoul? And Minho was stuck here. Living the life everyone wanted him to life, just with another perception of it.  
  
Minho and Felix eventually became good friends after all. It was shortly before summer break when Felix finally decided he was sick of pleasing the people around him and ignoring Minho who was one of the few people he actually liked. So he sat with him during lunch, talked to him in the halls until Minho accepted that he wouldn't leave.  
And though their friendship only lasted for a year before Minho left for college, he was one of the people he met in Australia he would never, ever forget.

When his mother left for work one morning, he went to her computer, printed out college applications and saved up every single penny he could. Because he knew his mother wouldn't pay for any other college that wasn't part of the Ivy League. Sending him off to America would solve all her problems.   
So he made a decision that day. The decision to live his own life. To take what he wanted without giving back.  
His 18th birthday wasn't a happy day, neither was his graduation ceremony in the next year. His family and friends called him, and he played the role of a cheerful Minho. His father had promised to come, but of course he didn't and his mother hadn't said a single word to him that day, except for:  
"I've prepared your applications. They're in the kitchen. Fill them out until tonight."  
  
Sitting in the big hall of the airport, he grabbed the backpack on his lap tight as he watched planes land and take off.   
He left on a sunny morning, a morning similar to the day he first arrived in Sydney, the very day he'd been accepted to Princeton University. Not one day had be been able to truly feel happy in the big white house with his mother. It felt like every mistake he had made and everything she ever blamed him for was trapped in there, living among them like ghosts. There were a lot if things Minho regretted.   
Meeting Chan was not one of them.  
He smiled to himself.  
  
 _„Flight 0325 from Kingsford Smith International Airport to Incheon International Airport will shortly depart from Gate 42. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you.“_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who's been with me from start to finish and kept reading this fic. It means the world to me. And even if you read this ff for the first time today, thank you very much for being here.   
> There are definetely more ffs to come, I just don't know when so watch out for that if you're interested <3


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